


Choosing Hope

by Indigopaintedsky



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: Dramione FanFiction Forum, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:22:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 33,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29661711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indigopaintedsky/pseuds/Indigopaintedsky
Summary: This story is set 5 years post war.It follows the mundane life of Hermione Granger, and how she and her friends move on from a wild life of constant danger to a life of bills, responsibility, relationships, and more.
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger/George Weasley, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/George Weasley
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

Hermione walked swiftly through Diagon Alley. It was mid July so the temperature was comfortable and warm. She had finished working at the ministry and apparated to go pick up some new reading for the weekend. Some things truly never change. 

As she walked into Flourish and Blotts, the clerk greeted her.

"Wotcher Hermione! Here for some new reading?"

"But of course! How's it been? Busy day?" She nodded towards the stack of mail order packages on the desk.

"Hogwarts semester is starting in a couple of months. Early bird parents are putting in orders already."

"How funny! One of my favorite parts of the school experience was coming to Diagon Alley before the term with my best friends to shop." 

"Times change I guess."

"I guess so... Well I'm going to see if anything will catch my eye"

"Sure thing. See you in a minute"

She gave him a small smile and started up the stairs. As she walked she scanned titles, trying to decide what she was in the mood for this weekend. She walked by an entire Harry Potter section. The Wizarding World was just as obsessed with Harry as they ever were. Numerous books had been written on "The Boy Who Lived."

She chuckled to herself, Harry hadn't changed a bit, he still hated all of the attention - she could picture him stammering awkwardly if he had seen this whole area. She pondered the war, how it had aged them, but really they were all still themselves. 

After the war had ended, she and Ron hadn't lasted long. They realized that they were just family to each other, and in a moment of loneliness and fear they had projected something onto their friendship that wasn't really there. Thank Merlin it hadn't effected their friendship a bit. They remained as close as ever after the breakup. Molly took it the hardest really, having her heart set on Hermione as a daughter in law. Their breakup had freed Ron up to truly be selfish and chase after a career in Quidditch as he'd always dreamed. He had just made Keeper of the Chudley Canons. They couldn't have been prouder of him. He was eating up all of the attention. Unlike Harry, he loved it. 

Harry was an Auror. He and Ginny got married last year. They were still as in love as ever and Ginny (much to Harry's chagrin) started remodeling Grimmaulds place. She took after her mother and was a natural homemaker. She at least let him keep Sirius' room and the study as it was. 

Hermione wore many hats in the ministry but, she was mostly in Runic research. She had a beautiful, modern, two bedroom flat, roomy enough for guests but small enough to be cozy. After the war had ended, she had found her parents and restored their memories. All in all, she had a wonderful life, she was alone often but never lonely. She joined Sunday brunch at the Burrow regularly and her parents visited frequently. She enjoyed her solitude. Honestly, after the war, she needed to rebuild herself, and figure out who she was without the consistent stress of trying to keep Harry alive. 

She turned the corner to a new row of books and came face to face with - 

"Malfoy?" Her mouth hung open. 

His shock mirrored her own. "Granger! ... Hi."

"Hi" She said carefully.

He scratched his eyebrow uncomfortably and then shoved his hands in his pockets. "I- erm - how are you?"

She looked at him, taking him in, he was taller than she remembered. Although, the last time she'd been this close to him was their third year, and she was punching him in the face. All of the pretense and haughtiness that he had carried himself with throughout their school years was gone. He was just... a man. Albeit at the moment a very uncomfortable one. The corner of her mouth quirked. 

"I'm good, I'm great. Trying to find a good book actually. How are you?" 

He seemed shocked she was being so polite to him. "I'm.. also good. And also trying to find a book." He chuckled, nervously. 

Hermione smiled, gently. "Well then, this was... interesting. Have a good weekend" She started to move past him. 

"Granger?"

She stopped and looked at him "Hm?" Their eyes locked and caramel met stormy grey. He stuttered. 

"I'm... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The words started tumbling out as he talked almost as though he couldn't stop them. It were as if he'd rehearsed this and now finding the courage to begin, the words just followed by practice. "I was a coward. I was... pretty terrible actually. I have a lot to apologize for. Not just to you but to everyone I had treated poorly under the sham of blood status. I am very ashamed of who I was. I cringe at the thought of the things I did and said. Fear and brainwashing are only an excuse to a point. I knew what I was doing was wrong. I'm sorry I didn't have the courage to be better, and I'm sorry I stood idly by as horrible things were done to you in my home. I'm just... I'm sorry." He stood there out of breath from his speech and looking a tad desperate. 

The stood in silence for a minute as she processed. His eyes finally fell to his shoes. When she spoke she spoke slowly trying to find the words. She dipped her head slightly to catch his eyes. "You are not your past. You are the choices you make going forward and the person you choose to be and fight to be daily. Thank you for your apology. I never held it against you, any of it. Our generation grew up in a strange and horrible time. You couldn't help the family you were born into any more than I could help been muggle born, but I think you're doing a pretty good job of recreating yourself. I'm proud of you, it takes courage to admit fault. And I forgive you." 

He smiled. She realized in that moment she'd never seen him smile, truly, only smirk his haughty pampered smirk. He had a nice smile. 

"Okay" He finally said.

She smiled back "Okay" 

He started to leave and stopped once more, he pulled a book from the shelf. "This is a good book, I enjoyed it quite a bit." He smiled broadly as she took it. 

"Goodbye Draco." 

"See you around Hermione"

She stood there for a minute until she heard the jingle of the shop door. She looked down, "Broken Angels" was the book title. "Sure why not," she thought to herself. She paid for the book and headed home mulling over the interaction with Malfoy. 

When she got home, she changed out of her work clothes into a soft jumper and some shorts. She made herself some dinner and curled up by the fireplace with her new book. Within ten minutes she was immersed. She couldn't put the book down. By the time she finished, it was after three in the morning. The book had pulled her in, centered around a character seeking redemption, and following their journey to recreating who they were. She had laughed, she had cried, it was a captivating novel. She usually tried to spread a book throughout the weekend but she really couldn't help but finish it. 

She crawled into bed and fell asleep wondering if this was the book that inspired Draco to change himself. 


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione woke the next morning to the sun shining on her face. She felt groggy from staying up so late the previous night but, force of habit still woke her at 6:15am. She trudged to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Dark circles had already formed under her eyes from one night of missing her usual 8 hours of sleep. 

"That's what you get" she scolded herself. 

She went to the kitchen and made herself some coffee. As she was pouring it, she heard a tap on her window. She opened the window to let not one, but two owls hop in. One had the Daily Prophet, and the other a letter. She paid the first owl for the paper, who immediately swept off, and the second she handed a treat after taking the letter. This owl stuck around. She popped the letter open, and it read:

_Good morning Hermione,_

_Talked to Ron this morning, he asked if we would come to the pitch to watch him practice before our usual lunch. I told him yes and that I'd send Hermes along to ask you if you had any morning plans._

_So finish your coffee and reading the paper and meet me at the pitch._

_See you soon,_

_Harry_

Hermione laughed. She grabbed some parchment and quill quickly. 

_Hello Harry,_

_I find how well you know me both creepy and endearing. I'll see you at the pitch at let's say, 9am._

_I'll grab some danish from the bakery you love by my flat._

_See you in a bit,_

_Hermione_

She sat down at her kitchen island on one of the stools, and looked over the headlines as she sipped her coffee. The Minister had managed to once again infuriate the papers and they had launched a full blown smear campaign. Everything he did was wrong. She sighed, being someone who worked closely with the Minister, it bothered her how he was being dragged through the mud. He was a good man who was doing his best, and was actually doing a good job. He just had little patience for diplomacy, which was his downfall. She flipped through the first couple of stories. Not having the stomach for the full blown fabrications, she read the piece on Ron making the Chudley Canons. She made a mental note to clip out those and frame them. She flipped to the next page and paused. 

**_"DRACO MALFOY LEVELS FAMILY HOME TO REBUILD ESTATE"_ **

She went on to read how he had spent months getting the permits to destroy his family home and rebuild it from scratch. 

**_"The dark magic that haunts this home is steeped so deeply within it's walls that the only possible way I could comfortably keep my family's estate would be to start from scratch. It is the only way I can think to erase the atrocities committed on these grounds without fully giving up my family legacy. Thank you."_ **

The story read that he would not further speak to the reporters. The photo of him on the story looked nothing like the nervous, stuttering man who she ran into at the bookstore. He was strong, elegant, and striking all without his childhood hubris. He conducted himself tactfully and then walked away. 

She contemplated this story. All evidence pointed towards a new Malfoy. She closed the paper. Good for him, she thought. She drained her coffee and got up to change. It was a weekend so, she needn't dress in any of her business work attire. She snagged some jeans, boots, and an oversized dark green wrap tie waist cardigan. She brushed through her hair, and put on some chapstick. 

She was not overly concerned with looks or fashion. However, especially given that she was a professional woman, who worked closely with the Minister of Magic no less, she did her best to always look presentable when leaving her flat.

She snagged her keys and purse and stepped outside of her door. Anti-Apparition charms prevented her from apparating from inside of her domicile. Most flats for the magical community had those particular wards as a security measure. You don't want someone just apparating into your home unannounced, or Merlin forbid to steal. She locked the door and apparated. 

"Wow, I actually beat you here." She looked up and saw Harry grinning at her. 

"In my defense, It is 8:54am so I am STILL early." She replied mildly annoyed. No one insults her punctuality. 

"I know, I just had to rub it in." He said cheekily.

She rolled her eyes. "Nice." 

He shrugged "It's the little things." 

They hugged.

"So what's new? How's Ginny?" She asked looking him over.

Harry groaned pinching the bridge of his nose. "Oh you know, just systematically making her way through every room in the house." 

"She just wants to brighten the place up. The place has so many charms and curses from the Black blood purists. It's going to be your home forever! You'll have your kids there... surely you can understand." She explained gently.

Harry looked at her grimly. "Oh I get it, it doesn't mean I have to like the process."

Hermione laughed. "I can definitely appreciate that." 

"Speaking of people remodeling their home to remove sins of the previous residents.... Did you read the story on Malfoy?" 

"I did..." She said slowly.

"I don't really know what to think. I guess I'd like to believe he's really trying to be better. It's just hard to imagine when he acted the way he did in school. But the war changed us all I supposed... I don't know..." He stopped speaking his brow furrowed. 

They started walking to the pitch. 

Hermione decided to tell him. "I actually ran into him at Flourish and Blotts yesterday."

Harry halted abruptly. "Well you certainly sat on that for a minute!"

Hermione laughed. "I know. I know. I was planning on waiting to bring it up during lunch to tell you both at the same time. But it just came up organically now, so I figured I might as well tell you now."

Harry nodded and started walking again. "That makes sense. Well, it can wait if you want"

"No, it's fine. I can tell you separately. I just ran into him and he actually apologized for everything. He said he knew he was awful and that he's horribly ashamed. He said that there isn't an excuse but he's trying to be better now. He's sorry and he wanted me to know." Hermione shrugged "He seemed sincere."

Harry seemed dumbstruck "Wow. What did you say?"

"I told him that I forgave him. That we aren't defined by our past but by who we choose to be moving forward. Then he left. Well, he recommended a book for me and then he left."

"Maybe he really has changed." Harry said mulling it over. 

"For what it's worth, I think he has." Hermione responded quietly.

Harry smiled. "Well, you always were a good judge of character." 

They walked up to the stands and sat down. 

"Danish?" Hermione said as she pulled out the bakery bag.

"Ohhh yes! I thought you'd forgotten!" Harry snatched it excitedly and started scarfing it. 

"You're an animal" Hermione noted disgustedly.

"OKAY explain THIS! Ginny wants to lose 10 pounds even though I say she looks great no matter what. So, what does that mean? There's nothing but BIRD feed or GRAVEL in the house and I have to suffer because SHE can't stand having any human food in the house when she's on a diet!" Harry finished by aggressively shoving more danish in his mouth. 

Hermione laughed. "That does sound pretty awful. Sorry, I can't help you there. That's definitely your cross to bear." 

"Don't I know it... The worst part is, I can't even get Kreacher to make me anything on the down low because he likes her more than me and he's wholeheartedly enjoying my suffering." 

"Will it make you feel better if I give you my danish?" She grinned at him.

"Are you sure?" Harry said already stuffing the second danish into his mouth.

"Completely" She rolled her eyes. 

They looked up at the pitch to watch Ron make a fantastic block.

"He's gotten quite good hasn't he." Hermione commented.

"Oh yeah, he's been working his arse off so, he's definitely earned it. He's asked every member of the family to come see him practice at least once." Harry said through a full mouth. 

She looked across the pitch to see a gaggle of fangirls holding "WE LOVE RONALD WEASLEY" signs above their heads every time he passed them. Ron gave them an encouraging loopdeloop which granted him a series of whooping and adoring screams. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He loves having fans."

Harry gave her a pointed look. "Better him than me. Ever since Skeeter did that piece on our wedding, I hardly get noticed by girls like that anymore. Good riddance, too."

Hermione batted her eyes mockingly. "I'll always notice you Harry."

He glared at her. "Ha. Ha. You're hilarious."

"I know, and by the way there's another 'Boy Who Lived' book that just came out. You've got a whole section dedicated to you at Flourish and Blotts." 

Harry whined. "oh come ON. When are they going to give that up!"

Hermione looked at him. "Please Harry, it was only the biggest thing to happen to the wizarding world... TWICE. All centered around you, mind you." 

"Okay Voldemort tried to kill me. Failed. Then tried again a bunch of times, and then actually did. Then I came back and killed him. Who cares get over it." Harry ranted, fully exasperated. 

Hermione chuckled. "I wouldn't hold your breath for that Harry."

Harry moaned. "Yeah I know."

They returned their attention to the pitch, but the practice was winding down. Ron flew over to them.

"Heya guys! What do you think?" He asked elated. 

"You look great mate!" Harry said encouragingly.

"Seriously! I was just telling Harry I thought you've gotten really good." Hermione smiled widely. 

"Thanks guys! This is a literal dream come true. I just want to share it with everyone!" Ron said, clearly invigorated by their praise. 

"We'll never miss a game." Hermione promised. Harry just nodded vigorously. 

Ron dismounted and grabbed a towel. "Where're we eating?" 

Hermione shrugged and looked to Harry, who just started shaking his head. 

"Nope. Don't ask me to make any decisions. My brain is fried. Ginny is trying so hard to make me feel included in the home renovations that she's constantly making me make decisions about things I don't care about. You guys pick. As long as it's real food!"

"Don't expect any sympathy from me mate. You married her." Ron said seriously. "What about that new restaurant that just opened up across town?"

"Sure" said Hermione nonchalantly.

"Cool, let me just change and...." Ron looked over towards his fans, who were still standing there whispering and giggling. "You guys wouldn't mind would you?"

"Go for it!" Said Hermione at the same time Harry said "Be fast, I need to eat this weeks calories today." 

Ron snorted. "Alright I'll be quick" He hopped back on his broom and flew over to the girls.

A few minutes later they were all walking off of the pitch. 

"Hey did you guys see that story about Malfoy?" Ron said.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and both nodded.

"What do you make of that?" Ron persisted.

Harry looked at Hermione who didn't speak and then turned back to Ron and said. "Hermione seems to think it's sincere. She ran into him the other day and apparently he apologized and everything. She's a good judge of character, so I believe her." 

Ron looked at Hermione with big eyes. "Well way to let me in on that!"

Hermione threw her hands up. "It happened yesterday! I had just told Harry when we got here during your practice! But yes, he apologized and he seemed truly remorseful. Then this morning there was the piece in the Prophet on him. I'm inclined to believe him. I think he's really changed and I think everyone deserves a shot at redemption."

Ron nodded as he thought over what she had said. "He really apologized huh? Well, I guess the bloke can't be that bad if he's going out of his way to apologize... and especially to you." 

They stopped walking, having cleared the Anti-Apparition charm on the Pitch. "I think we should all be kind to him. Until he does something that proves that this change isn't sincere, everyone deserves a chance." Hermione stated confidently. 

"I agree" Said Harry.

"It'll take me a while not to be wary of the guy I'm less forgiving than you lot but, I can get on board." Ron responded.

"Can we go eat now?" Harry moaned and apparated on the spot without waiting for a reply. 

Ron and Hermione shrugged at each other and followed suit.


	3. Chapter 3

When Ron and Hermione arrived at the restaurant, Harry's desperate behind was already inside trying to get them a table. They both chuckled and walked in. 

The trio was seated and handed menus. Every table they passed started whispering, soon the whole restaurant was silent and staring. 

Harry shrank behind his menu. "I hate it when this happens" he muttered.

Ron simply beamed. "Why? It's the best. Who do you think they're staring for?" He said while sitting taller. 

"Who cares" Groaned Harry.

Hermione just ignored the whole scene and read through the menu. 

"Excuse me..." A familiar voice said. Hermione looked up and found herself staring at none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Hi" Hermione said softly. 

The boys just gaped.

"Could I speak to you, Weasley and Potter, for a moment? Privately?" Draco said gently.

The boys looked at each other. "Alright" "Sure" 

They stood and the three of them stepped out to the veranda. 

Hermione sat there thoughtfully, watching them. She saw Draco doing all of the talking as Ron and Harry awkwardly nodded here and there, both looking rather bemused. She couldn't take her eyes off of Draco. He wore dark jeans and dark grey polo. She had never seen him dressed so casually before. He still looked as elegant and striking as ever, almost royal. He oozed class. The three men smiled and all shook hands. They reentered the restaurant. Malfoy paused and gave Hermione a smile and a nod before returning to his table. She saw that he was having lunch with his mother who also smiled at Hermione kindly. Hermione returned it.

Ron and Harry plopped back down at the table. 

"That was the strangest experience..." Harry started.

"He was definitely the last person on earth I'd expect to hear that from." Ron agreed.

"Did he apologize to you guys also?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Yeah! He was all remorse. Admitted he was a git the whole time we were in school, and said he was a coward and he was sorry." Ron said.

Hermione pressed. "What did you guys say?" 

"What could we say?" Harry retorted. 

"We said it was all forgotten and in the past and he shook our hands and we came back." Ron responded.

"So bizarre" Harry shook his head.

"I guess he really has changed" Ron regarded, glancing at Draco across the restaurant.

"Okay enough with this I'm hungry" Harry flagged down a waiter. "I don't care if you guys aren't ready yet, I'm ordering half of the menu." 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The trio finished up their lunch and left. The owner of the restaurant had come and thanked them profusely for coming. He asked Harry and Ron to pose for a photo for publicity's sake and bowed them out of the restaurant begging them to come back often. 

"Alright well I'll see you tomorrow at the burrow right?" Ron asked.

"Of course" Hermione smiled.

"And miss your mother's cooking? Never" Harry said fervently.

The boys apparated. Hermione decided she would walk. It was only 20 minutes from her flat and it was a beautiful day. There was also a muggle book shop along the way that she wanted to stop into. 

As she cut through a park, she saw distinguishing platinum hair sitting at a bench reading a book. She slowed as he looked up at her, he smiled. 

"Hello Draco" She greeted him.

"Hermione" He nodded at her. 

"How was lunch?" She asked.

"Delicious. Mother and I have lunch every Saturday. We try new restaurants. It's our thing." He shrugged.

"Draco Malfoy, a mama's boy. Who'd have thought?" Hermione teased.

"What can I say?" He opened his arms, his eyes laughing. "Where are you headed?"

"Home. There is a muggle book shop I like to stop in when I can, on the way." 

"Care for company?" Draco stood and snapped his book shut.

"Sure" Hermione said. Draco gestured and she started walking.

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Hermione was intensely aware of him; his breath, his stride, his proximity to her.

"Is this weird?" She looked at him finally. "This is weird right?" 

Draco's eyes twinkled. "A bit." 

"Can I ask you something that might be personal?" Hermione inquired.

Draco's mouth quirked. "Certainly." 

"I read the book that you recommended." His face lit up instantly.

"You did? Did you like it? ... wait you finished it already?" 

"I couldn't put it down once I started! I'm actually exhausted, I stayed up half the night reading it." She gabbed.

He laughed. "I had the same experience. What was your question?"

"Was... was that what inspired this... you? The huge change in.. everything about you?" She asked shyly, not quite sure how to word it without being too invasive. 

"Good question" He smiled down at her. "Yes and no. The change was a long time coming. I only needed the courage to start. I always knew the prejudice my family toted was nonsense, which oddly made me cling to it harder. Especially going to school with you!" He laughed.

"Me?" She searched his eyes curiously.

"Well blood status supposedly made us superior right? My blood status never helped me beat you out in school. My blood status never helped with much of anything really. I knew it was all nonsense. When the Dark Lord was in our home... and seeing his cruelty, how evil he was, in comparison to Dumbledore, Mcgonagall, and well... everyone else." He stopped walking and looked down at his hands. "And then when you and Potter and Weasley were caught... and my aunt tortured you." He looked at her. "I... that... that almost pushed me all the way. The profundity of how evil the entire pretense for our side of the war became abundantly clear. But again, I lacked courage, or any kind of bravery. I was incredibly weak. After the war, and things had calmed, my father had been sent to Azkaban and it was just my mother and I... I picked up that book and it spoke to me. I realized how badly I wanted to be different, and that I and I alone had that power. The understanding was gradual, but the change was instantaneous, with a single decision to just... be different." He stopped and grinned sheepishly.

Hermione put her hand on his arm. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

He paused. "Thank you for asking." 

They continued walking. 

"So what do you do now?" Hermione asked.

"Well being a Death Eater wasn't exactly a great thing for my resume" Malfoy laughed good-naturedly. "And my family has enough wealth to fund several generations, so I have immersed myself in study and the consistent pursuit of personal growth." He fiddled with his cuffs and smiled to himself. "Boring I know." He added. 

"I think it's wonderful." Hermione said. "I also study whenever I have the chance. There's so much in the world to learn." 

He nodded. "I couldn't agree more."

She struggled for a moment, but decided to say it."I saw the piece in the Daily Prophet about you and your family home." 

Draco gave a short laugh. "Ah yes, Malfoy Manor. I couldn't keep walking past the various rooms without hearing, seeing, reliving the things that happened there. The... drawing room is particularly painful..." 

Hermione nodded understandingly. "I definitely understand the motivation. I actually think it's commendable." 

Draco fell silent for a moment before responding. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you." 

Trying to push the conversation to something lighter, Hermione asked. "Where do you and your mother live while the manor is being rebuilt?" 

"I rented a flat in an upscale building downtown. My mother hasn't lived in the house since the war ended. It was too much for her as well. She actually made reparations with her sister Andromeda and lives with her now."

"Tonks mom! I didn't know! I haven't seen her or Teddy in awhile, I've been a bit immersed in some self improvement as well." She grinned abashedly.

"You? What did you feel the need to improve? If you don't mind my asking" Malfoy asked.

They had arrived at the muggle book shop. 

Hermione laughed. "There's always room for improvement. But it will have to be another story for another time. I'm about to become very engrossed in all things books and unable to think of anything else." 

Malfoy looked astonished for a moment and then composed himself. "So there will be another time?" 

Hermione blushed. "If you'd like."

Malfoy tried and failed to conceal how pleased he was. "Very much." 

"Okay" Hermione said, mirroring their conversation the previous day.

"Okay" Malfoy smiled knowingly. He turned to leave.

"Next time I recommend the book!" Hermione called.

Malfoy laughed and looked back. "If you'd like." 

She watched him retreat for a moment before walking into the shop. 


	4. Chapter 4

The bustle of Sunday brunch at the Burrow was filled with warmth and family. Mrs. Weasley set up canopies outside with a long table with chairs. Bill, George, Ginny and Harry, Ron, Percy, and Charlie were all there. They all sat at the table chatting loudly over good food. 

"Goodness Harry, stop it! You're eating worse than Ron. It's disgusting!" Ginny commented loudly.

"You leave him alone! You can eat as much as you want dear." Said Mrs. Weasley to Harry lovingly while shooting her daughter a dirty look. 

"Are you starving your husband Gin?" Bill smirked cheekily.

"We are just eating clean!" Ginny proclaimed.

"Blink twice if you're in danger" George whispered loudly.

The table erupted in laughter as Ginny looked about exasperated.

Errol crashed into the table suddenly, followed by a graceful Daily Prophet owl. 

Ginny snatched up the Prophet while Harry paid for it. Ginny looked up at Hermione, "Have you seen this?" She handed the paper to Hermione. 

**_"GRYFFINDOR PRINCESS AND SLYTHERIN BAD BOY FORBIDDEN ROMANCE"_ **

There was a photo of Malfoy and Hermione putting her hand on his arm as they smiled warmly at each other. 

"Who- of COURSE!" Hermione looked for the writer of the slanderous article and unsurprisingly it was Rita Skeeter. "After all these years, and I still HATE her. I'm going to put her back in a jar." Hermione ranted absolutely seething. 

Ron reached across the table and grabbed the paper. "When was this?" Ron asked through a full mouth. 

"Chew your food before speaking dear." Mrs. Weasley said tersely. 

The table grew quiet as everyone looked at Hermione.

"It was yesterday after lunch, I ran into him at the park. We just walked and talked that's all. It was actually quite pleasant." Hermione mumbled suddenly feeling very self conscious. 

"I heard about him apologizing to you, and to Ron and Harry. He sounds like he's trying to be a good guy now! I don't think you have anything to feel embarrassed about." Ginny defended loudly, throwing a look at her father, Percy and Bill who had all stiffened significantly at seeing the headline. 

The table relaxed slightly. 

"I did see the story about him leveling the Malfoy Manor and his quote. Maybe he has changed." Bill said slowly. 

"He's not his father, and I think that's what is important to remember." Charlie said matter of factly and staring pointedly at his father.

"He was definitely nice enough to us at the restaurant yesterday" Ron agreed.

"Is there something going on with the two of you?" Percy asked

The table got quiet again.

"No! I've only run into him twice. We've just had some pleasant exchanges is all. I read a book he recommended and we were discussing it." Hermione said a little flustered.

"And so what if there were? If he's really changed." Ginny said with an air of daring anyone to disagree.

"You certainly look pretty close in this photo. We wouldn't be mad dear, if there were. Not that you're lying of course." Mrs. Weasley encouraged.

"There's not. If something develops, you lot will be the first to know." Hermione picked at her food uncomfortably.

"Well, what I want to know is who decided YOU'RE the Gryffindor royalty! I worked long and hard for a title and I feel cheated." George complained loudly.

The table exploded with a both lighthearted but heated conversation on the subject. Hermione sent George a grateful smile. He winked back at her and wholeheartedly joined in the chaos. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione stood in the yard of the Burrow glaring at the Daily Prophet.

"I missed seeing you Friday, you usually always stop by after Flourish and Blotts."

She turned to see George walking up. "I know I'm sorry. I was distracted after running into Draco." 

George stopped near her. "I can imagine. Will I see you this coming Friday? I need you to come by and disapprove of the new line of products coming out. That's how I'll know they're good." He grinned cheekily.

"You're the worst!" She laughed. "Sure, I'll make sure I stop by next week." 

"I actually have a favor to ask you." George said. 

"Anything." Hermione smiled warmly. 

"Will you come with me to the annual War celebration? My date bailed on me and Ron said he didn't think you were going with anyone." 

"I'd love to." Hermione said. "What happened with Katie?"

George shrugged. "She needed a lot more attention than I was willing to give her." 

"Ah yes, we women do love our attention." Hermione chuckled. 

"We'll have fun! I always enjoy spending time with you." George stated.

"Me too George. We definitely will have fun." She said.

"And don't worry too much about Skeeters garbage. It'll pass. Most of the wizarding community knows what she prints is absolute filth." George said confidently.

"I know. I'm actually more worried for Draco. I hope that people don't start coming after him. You know he couldn't get a job after the war?" 

"Well, former death eater, I'm not exactly surprised." George remarked unfazed. 

"People can be incredibly unforgiving, I just hope he doesn't come under fire for this. I mean Skeeter is romanticizing the whole thing in this article but, I could still see some people in the community coming after him. I do really believe he's changed. I just hope he's not going to have to suffer for her tactlessness." Hermione said annoyed.

"Let's hope." George said. "Come back to the house. And toss that rag, it's not worth fretting over." 

Hermione nodded and they walked back to the Burrow together. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione apparated right to the outside of her apartment. She unlocked the door and walked in. It was Sunday, which was the day she used to prep for her week. She walked around casting various cleaning charms, set her clothes and dishes to wash, dusted, and mopped. She walked to her closet and picked out her various outfits for the work week. After all of her preparations were complete, she made herself some dinner that she ate while she lounged on the couch and watched a cheesy girly movie. Sometimes she liked to indulge in muggle comforts. Her parents had bought her a large flat screen for a housewarming gift when she had moved into her flat. 

She found herself unable to focus on the movie. Her mind kept wandering to Draco. She finally sat up and grabbed a parchment and quill.

_Good evening Draco,_

_Did you read that absurd article Skeeter wrote? I'm going to wring her neck. I'm so sorry if this brings down any negative attention from anyone. I just wanted to reach out, and see if you were alright. I am pretty livid myself. Let me know if there's anything I can do for you._

_Regards,_

_Hermione Granger_

She glanced over it briefly. It was short but, really what else was there to say? She went to the apartment owlery and sent it off. What a weekend. She thought to herself before returning home. 


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione woke abruptly to her alarm. 5:30am. She groaned and fell back into her pillows willing herself to get up. Monday. 

She dragged herself out of bed and got ready for her day. She threw on a long pencil skirt that landed below her knees, and a sheer white blouse with a silver undershirt that she tucked into her skirt. She put on small heels. She wasn't a fan of heels so all of the ones she owned were 2 inches or shorter. She pulled her hair back into a soft bun at the nape of her neck. A touch of mascara and lipgloss and she was ready. 

She walked to her kitchen just in time for the Daily Prophet owl to arrive. She snagged her coffee and some toast and sat down to read. As she swept through headlines, there was nothing new on Draco and her supposed "forbidden romance", all was back to the status quo of making the Minister look as incompetent as possible. She glanced at her watch, 6:15am, tossed back the remainder of her coffee and hopped up to go. She grabbed her purse and her briefcase and walked to her fireplace. It was significantly easier to floo to work. She grabbed a handful of floo powder. "Ministry of Magic!" 

As she stepped out into the Ministry Atrium, she heard a shout. "There she is!" Before she could even process who "she" could be, she was bombarded by reporters.

"Miss Granger! Miss Granger! Can you make a statement about your alleged romance with former Death Eater Draco Malfoy?" "Miss Granger! How long have you and Mr. Malfoy been involved?" "Miss Granger! Is your and Mr. Malfoy's affair the reason for your and Mr. Weasley's break up?" 

She stood there blinking as they practically attacked her. She felt a strong arm grab her elbow and start leading her to the Ministry elevators. She looked to see that it was Blaise Zabini who was dragging her along. Blaise was the very definition of 'Tall, Dark, and Handsome.' He essentially plowed through the reporters, guiding her along and with a stern "Piss off" closed the elevator doors on their faces.

"I would suggest not freezing when being accosted by reporters," He smiled kindly.

"That's never happened to me before, it was definitely unexpected," Hermione managed.

"I thought you were the smartest witch of our age? After yesterday's paper you had to see that coming," Blaise teased.

"I guess I didn't think about it. I was too busy being furious with Skeeter it didn't occur to me to expect an onslaught of reporters at work." 

"Is it not true?" Blaise raised an eyebrow.

"Oh Merlin no! We ran into each other twice. We are just getting reacquainted! He's not the person he was in school, quite the opposite actually." The elevator arrived at their floor and they stepped out.

Blaise nodded, "He's definitely been working on himself."

"Have you guys kept in touch?" Hermione queried.

"I was never dragged into the Death Eater nonsense, but our mothers have always been close. I wasn't particularly interested in being friends with him when he was all about his self importance. When he changed however, he's become someone worth being friends with," Blaise shrugged. "They'll be waiting for you when you lunch too, you know." 

Hermione groaned, "Well a girl has got to eat!" 

Blaise laughed, "Well if you need a bodyguard, you know where to find me." He gestured at his office.

"Thank you Blaise, I might just take you up on that." 

Blaise nodded and walked into his office. 

The morning passed quickly. Outside of a few raised eyebrows, no one mentioned the headline. She was grateful for that. She had hoped that she was well known enough in the workplace for being a boring prude that they wouldn't believe Rita's lies. 

12:30pm arrived too fast. She didn't want to face the chaos downstairs. She heard a knock at her office door, "Come in." 

Ginny and Harry entered her office with takeout bags. 

"Hi friend. We thought you might like to eat in your office and avoid those trolls downstairs," Harry smiled warmly.

Hermione jumped up to hug her friends. "Oh I could kiss you both! Thank you. I was just considering working through lunch so I wouldn't have to deal with it." 

Harry nodded knowingly, "It's pretty much the worst thing." 

Ginny started unpacking the boxes, "Harry will help you get to the Atrium after work." 

"Thank you both so much. It's all very overwhelming." Hermione took the box of food Ginny handed her. 

"I have half a mind to find Rita and hex the life out of her," Ginny said furiously.

"You'll have to get in line." Hermione said stabbing her noodles with her fork a little too aggressively

They finished lunch, chatting happily. For that hour, Hermione was able to forget about all of the madness waiting for her downstairs. Before they left Harry stopped, "Hermione... I know it's tempting to want to hide in your office and never come out for lunch, but those sharks will just get more and more aggressive with their attempts to corner you. From experience, the best way to get them to leave you alone, is to face them, and give them nothing. If you're illusive you're interesting, but if you're in front of them and boring, they'll go away." 

Hermione grimaced, "I know you're right. Thanks Harry." 

"I'll see you at 4:30" He said before sweeping out of her office. 

Hermione slumped into her office chair. This was a nightmare. Harry was right, she needed to just face it. Eventually when the reporters saw that there was nothing interesting about her they would leave her alone. She resolved herself to have a productive afternoon and then steel herself for the rest of this week. 

Harry came to collect her at exactly 4:30pm. They walked to the elevators in silence. Before they reached the atrium Harry said, "Are you ready for this?" Hermione took a deep breath and nodded. 

As soon as the elevator doors opened the reporters launched themselves at the pair, but couldn't decide who they wanted to question more. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and pushed his way through them to get to the fireplaces.

"Mr. Potter! How do the home renovations go?" "Miss Granger, do you have any comment on your budding romance with Mr. Malfoy?" "Mr. Potter, how does your wife feel about you escorting your old flame publicly?" At that Harry stopped and turned to the reporters. They all fell silent. 

"Hermione is and has always been one of my best friends. She is not an 'old flame' and my wife is the one who wanted me to get her home safely and away from you lot. If you're a fan of getting hexed, you can ask her yourself the next time she comes to visit me at work." And with that he turned on his heel, dragged Hermione the rest of the way to the fireplaces and all but tossed her in. 


	6. Chapter 6

It was Tuesday morning, Hermione stood in the shower trying to wash away her anxiety about what waited for her at the Atrium.

When she walked into the kitchen there were three Owls waiting for her by the window. She grabbed the letters, and paid the Prophet owl and grabbed her coffee before reading them. When the headline caught her eye, she almost spilled her coffee.

**_"HERMIONE GRANGER SIGHTED WITH ANOTHER SLYTHERIN LOVE AFFAIR"_ **

Splashed across the front page was a photo of Blaise Zabini leading her through the reporters, and into the elevator glaring at the camera man and stepping slightly in front of Hermione to hide her from view as the elevator doors closed. She hadn't noticed he had done that when everything had happened yesterday.

She and Zabini had, until this point, had very limited interactions. They had crossed paths in Slug Club back in school, and then were in the research department of the ministry together. But aside from polite greetings, and various meetings they interacted very little. Blaise was the perfect example of what one could call a good Slytherin. He was cunning, resourceful, and ambitious, but he was never drawn into any of the blood status nonsense. She had never, at any point during their school years, heard him utter the words "mudblood". In fact, for the most part he steered clear of that entire crowd. He mostly seemed bored by everyone's frivolous nonsense in school. He was self motivated but had a strong moral compass.

She skimmed through the ridiculous report of her supposed affair with Zabini. Skeeter cited that Hermione has always enjoyed the company of 'powerful men'. Thoroughly nauseated, she tossed the paper aside and turned her attention to the letters. The first she saw was from Ginny.

_I will kill that woman! Are you okay?_

_Did you notice her in the crowd at all yesterday? I suppose she wouldn't be brave enough to actually face you. She probably polyjuiced or convinced someone to go in her stead while she sat on them as a beetle. Unbelievable!_

_On a different note, Zabini seemed rather protective of you. I remember him from Slug Club, he's a good guy. You should give him a gift or something as a thank you. He's a little shy, it comes off as disinterest but he's actually a good friend to have._

_Let me know if you need anything. I can bring lunch again if you'd like._

Hermione smiled and jotted a reply.

_I couldn't even get through the whole article, Skeeter is ludicrous._

_Yes, I should get Zabini something. He and I have worked together for a few years, although distantly, and have never discussed anything outside of work._

_Don't bring anything, I talked to Harry and I agree that I need to face them head on or they'll just get more out of hand._

_Thank you anyways darling._

She turned her attention to the second letter. It was from Draco.

_Granger,_

_I appreciate your concern but I think you had better save that_ _for_ _yourself. I have the option of hiding in my_ _flat_ _and not dealing with the outside world, you do not._

_Still waiting on that book recommendation._

_Draco Malfoy_

She laughed. He was right, of course. He probably also had house elves galore, he wouldn't need to leave his house for anything. She sighed. She wore black slacks, a white silk blouse and a bright red blazer. Today she wore her hair in a half up half down "do." She grabbed her briefcase. Took a deep breath to prepare herself, and stepped into the flames.

She stepped into the atrium and was once again accosted, by twice the amount of reporters this time. She set her jaw, locked her eyes on the elevator, and marched through the reporters. She did her best to ignore the increasing sense of panic as they swarmed her flashing their photos over and over. Blaise had also recently arrived and was receiving similar treatment a few paces away. She kept walking - she could check in with him later. He had longer legs so he reached the elevator a few seconds before her, and held it open as she rushed in. He closed the doors and turned to her.

"So I hear we are madly in love." He said seriously.

She blinked, before succumbing to a fit of laughter. He joined her. Before they knew it, they were both practically in tears from laughing so hard.

"This is ridiculous!" She exclaimed.

"I have to admit, I didn't totally believe you yesterday when you said there was nothing between you and Draco. However, now having a love affair fabricated for simply walking with you? I believe you fully." He said mirthfully, wiping a tear away.

"I hope that didn't get you in trouble with your lady." She said smiling.

He waved at her dismissively, "Oh there's no lady."

"Really? I thought you were dating Astoria Greengrass. I remember her stopping by a few times."

Blaise shrugged, "It was short lived. At the time, and even now, I was very focused on furthering my career. In my experience, significant others do not like coming second, even to work."

Hermione nodded, "This is true." They arrived at their floor and stepped out.

"Do you intend to hide in your office for lunch again today?" He asked.

"Nope. I'm going to face the music and take myself to a bistro." She smiled.

He laughed, "Good for you, Gryffindor. I would say we should go together, but I'm afraid that would only encourage the nonsense."

Hermione shrugged, "This too shall pass?" She grinned hopefully.

Blaise laughed "Not nearly as swiftly as we would hope."


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the week was a bit of a blur. It was a vicious cycle of getting accosted by reporters, working, reporters, lunch, reporters, work, reporters, home.

She was wrapping up her work day when she heard a sharp rap on her office door. "Come in" She said distracted by the paperwork in front of her. She heard a stern throat clear and she looked up to see the Minister standing in front of her. She bolted up to her feet.

"Sir! Hello, I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was.. um.. is there something I can do for you?" She finished, fully flustered.

The Minister smiled at her and began to pace.

"Miss Granger you have, thus far, been the least problematic and the most productive member of this office. It has however, been an issue of growing concern, that you have become the fascination of the tabloids. I knew of course, when bringing you on, being a member of the 'Golden Trio' would have both it's benefits and it's potential issues. But I decided you were worth it." He stopped and looked at her. "Miss Granger, I know that you cannot control the paper, but I need your assurances that this is not being encouraged or fostered by any of your own behavior."

Hermione gulped, "Sir, I promise you. I have done nothing to warrant this! I ran into an old classmate from school and we talked. The next day it was splashed across the front page. Monday at work, I was attacked by reporters and was stunned, so Mr. Zabini was kind enough to guide me away from them, and the following day, he and I are having an affair! I promise you sir. I am doing my best to handle it with class and make it go away." She finished desperately.

The Minister's body relaxed, "I believe you, Miss Granger. As long as you carry on with your excellent work, I have no complaints." He turned and left her office.

She dropped into her chair, her head in her hands. This nonsense was actually threatening her career. Although the minister was very kind about it, that was definitely a warning to tread carefully. She finished up her work and walked out to the Atrium. She was surprised when she wasn't immediately greeted by a hoard of reporters. She realized that they were at the other side of the Atrium, attacking poor Blaise. She hurried across the Atrium, hurled herself into a fireplace, and said "Diagon Alley!"

She stepped out and looked around. There was not a reporter in sight. She happily walked over to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. She wasn't quite in the mood for reading this weekend. She stepped into the store.

"Hermione!" She looked up and saw George waving at her. He came down the stairs.

"You redecorated!" She said.

"Yeah well, Hogwarts term is about to start, gotta make it festive for the titchy first years." He grinned, "I didn't expect to see you today with everything that's been going on."

She shrugged, "I promised!"

He laughed, "That you did. Well, come on then, let me show you the new line."

He walked her to the back of the shop. Among the new inventions, there was "Instant Ice." It was a small blue cherry bomb looking thing, that when thrown at the ground, would turn the floor into ice in every direction for 30 feet. Then there were the Joke Brooms that you could have sent to someone you hate. They looked exactly like the brand new Firebolt line, but when one mounted one, it would rise five feet off the ground, and then turn immediately into a bucking bronco.

"Someone could get seriously hurt!" Hermione said, aghast.

"Oh good, you hate it. It should sell out." He slapped a sticker on the broom that said, **"Good girl Granger - Seal of Disapproval."**

Hermione stamped her foot, "GEORGE!"

He laughed and ran as she chased him. They ran back into the front of the store both chortling.

"You.. had better not..." She wheezed.

"Too late for that, love" He smirked.

He tossed a pack of extendable ears to her, "Cheer up Hermione. It's all good fun."

She started to pull out her purse but he waved her off.

"Grab what you like, you've had a rough week." He grinned at her. "I'm going to wrap up a couple of things, then I was thinking of stopping by the Leaky Cauldron for some fire whiskey. Care to come?"

She paused, "I don't know if I should... "

George seemed to know what she was thinking, but shrugged, "At this point, you could be seen with a pumpkin and they'd turn it into some sultry love story, but it's up to you."

"I'll shop around and when you come back I'll let you know." She smiled.

He nodded and went upstairs to check in with his employees.

She turned around and ran straight into Ron. "Ron! What're you doing here?" She said brightly.

"I just stopped in to say hi to my brother. What're you doing here?" He said while giving her a quick hug.

"He asked me to come by and check out the new line at brunch last weekend."

Ron looked over her towards the back, "Really? There's a new line? Is it good?"

"It's horrid, as always." She rolled her eyes.   
"Well hey, don't go anywhere. I'm gonna go check it out, and then let's talk about all of this nonsense Skeeter has been writing on you." He patted her shoulder before walking to the back.

She walked around looking at the various potions, puking pastilles, fainting fancies, and practical prank items that Fred and George had invented back in their school years. She felt a tug on her heart as she thought of Fred. There was a large portrait of him that hung in the shop. She walked over and touched it gently.

"Yeah, I miss him too." She turned around to see Harry and Ginny.

"What! Are all of the Weasley's just descending on me now?" Hermione laughed as she embraced them.

Harry and Ginny looked a little guilty. "We actually had all planned to meet up and talk about what's been happening with you recently, and see what could be done to help."

Hermione shook her head, "I should have known you lot wouldn't be able to stay out of it."

George jumped over the bannister and landed down behind her. "Of course not. We don't know how to stay out of anything. Never have."

Ron walked out of the back. "Hey George, the new line looks great."

"Yep, and I'm still going to charge you for anything you take."

"I'm your brother!" Ron sputtered.

George casually leaned his lank frame against the wall crossing his arms, "When has that ever stopped me from charging you?"

Ron pouted and dropped the small pile of jokes he'd been holding onto the desk.

"Consider it taxation for having to put up with you being such a git growing up." George winked.

"You're a git NOW," Ron muttered under his breath.

"Yes but you have no things that I want and I have many things that you want. That puts me in a position of power. It's a good thing you never became a politician." George bumped Ron with his elbow.

George turned to Hermione, "So, have you decided?"

Hermione sighed, "Alright I'll come."

Ginny put her arm around Hermione, "Don't worry, we'll protect you."

"Speak for yourself!" George said loudly before walking out.

The girls rolled their eyes before following him.


	8. Chapter 8

They entered the Leaky Cauldron together, and the room fell silent. Between Harry's infamousness, Ron being a member of the Chudley Canons, George being renowned for his joke shop, and now this nonsense with Rita Skeeter targeting Hermione's supposed love life, they immediately seized the attention of the pub's occupants.

A petite blonde stood up from a booth in the corner, waving vigorously. "Hey you lot! Come sit!"

Hermione simply beamed, walking over and giving Luna Lovegood a warm hug. Having stood, she revealed Neville, who had been sitting beside her. "What are you guys DOING here!?" Hermione embraced Neville as well.

George leaned in, "You know, you've been saying that a lot lately. You might want to increase your vocabulary. Read a book." She swatted him.

"I had sent Ginny an owl after seeing all of those articles about you in the Prophet. I wanted to see if you were okay, and if perhaps you wanted to do an exposè on the truth of the matter in the Quibbler. Like we did our fourth year with Harry, when Rita was targeting him." Luna said airily.

"I don't know if that would help. Unlike with Harry's situation, the exposè would consist of 'She's lying. The end.'" Ginny said.

They all sat in the booth. "Why don't we just find her and scare her into stopping?" Ron said.

"I don't know how I feel about that." Neville said, "Let's leave the scare tactics for a last resort."

"Not to mention, I could get into some serious hot water for something like that at work." Harry replied grimly.

George returned with butterbeers and firewhiskey for everyone, "Oh shutup, 'boy who lived.' You could hex Rita and parade her down the street naked in a cone of shame, and the most you'd get is a stern look. It's not like McGonagall runs the Ministry. You can't do anything wrong." He laughed, and then paused. "Actually that idea's not half bad."

Hermione shook her head as they all laughed. "You know what, you lot, I think this may be something that I need to sort on my own. As much as I appreciate it, and I do, I don't think this is something that anyone could do anything about. Hopefully, if I just keep my head down and don't let myself be seen with any more 'Slytherin bad boys,' it'll all just quietly go away." 

"Well then, let's drink! I didn't get these for nothing," George said "Hey Ron. Cough up."

They all laughed as Ron sputtered and spilt his drink.

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The group walked out of the Leaky Cauldron a few hours later, laughing boisterously. They had spent their time drinking, reliving their Hogwarts days, swapping stories, and watching George tease Ron til his face matched his hair.

"WE HAVE TO DO THIS AGAIN MORE OFTEN SOON!" Ginny shouted as she fell over into Harry, clearly sloshed. She seemed to realize, as Harry winced, that she was yelling. "I'm sorry... we have to do this again soon..." She whispered wetly.

Luna nodded, "I've missed you all so much. Let's do this again more often soon." She smiled brightly.

Neville and Ron were hanging off of each other, swaying. One of them lost balance, and they both tumbled into a heap, cackling and braying drunkenly.

Harry leaned down and pulled Ron up, while Luna lifted Neville to his feet. "We live near each other. I should drop him at his house," Luna said breezily. "Come along Neville." She looked at the group and smiled, "This was fun. I'll see you all soon? And Hermione, chin up." And with that, she and Neville apparated.

Harry, the most sober one between Ginny and Ron, looked at Hermione and George. "I should probably get these two home too. You okay Hermione?"

Hermione nodded. "I'm a bit tipsy, but I'm fine to get myself home."

"Alright drunkie one and two, let's go. See ya George." Harry apparated with Ginny and Ron.

Hermione turned to a very quiet, and very drunk George. "Do you need help getting home?" She said kindly.

George shrugged, "I can stumble down to the shop."

"I can side apparate you home, George."

"I live in the shop" George mumbled quietly.

"What? Why?" Hermione exclaimed.

"I... erm... too painful... to live at home in our old room... and too painful to live in our old flat.. but... don't want to live alone." He stammered, looking more broken than she had ever remembered seeing him.

He seemed to be getting drunker by the second, and started to tilt. "Ooookay." She ran forward and righted him. "Why don't you come back with me? Spend the night in a real bed," She said tenderly.

"Too much." George muttered as his lids drooped.

"Well you're barely conscious and I won't be able to hold you upright for much longer, so that settles that. Let's go." She said firmly.

George drooped, and his arms fell around her waist. She struggled to hold him up; it was now, or they were going to end up in a pile on the ground, so she apparated.

They arrived on her doorstep, and George vomited all over himself and her.

He burped, "Sorry."

"Scourgify" She cleaned them both up, "Do you feel better?" She asked as she opened her door.

"Bit" George replied weakly.

"Come on then." She took his hand and carefully led him into her flat, like a child. She took him to the spare room, and dumped him on the bed. He was asleep before she could even say anything else. She smiled sadly. She whisked his shoes off, threw a light blanket over him, closed the curtains, and conjured a large glass of water for him on the bed stand.

Hermione softly closed the door behind her, and walked over to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water as well. She was sobering up quickly. Poor George, she thought to herself. Did anyone even know how he was suffering? How did they miss it? Of course, he would be hurting the most. He hadn't just lost his brother! He had lost his twin, the person he had spent every day of his life with, connected at the hip. She resolved herself to find a way to help him, though in the morning. For tonight, he was warm and safe.


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione woke early to a crash in her living room. She snatched her wand and ran out to find George sprawled on the ground at her door.

"What are you doing?" She asked, confused.

Turning, he said: "Hermione?" He looked equally confused. "Where am I?"

"My place," she responded. "Reparo." She flicked her wand, mending the broken vase and righting the foyer table he had crashed into.

"What am I doing here?" He asked, more bemused.

She walked into the kitchen and gestured for him to follow. "You were rather drunk last night. Well, we all were. But you mentioned that you've been living in the shop, and I couldn't bear to leave you there last night, so I brought you home." She explained as she made a fresh pot of coffee.

He sat at the island. "I... oohhh" His head dropped into his hands. "I'm remembering." He peeked at her from in-between his fingers. "I horked all over you too, didn't I?"

She laughed and handed him his coffee, "A bit. It's fine. Luckily, being a witch means that it was cleaned within seconds." She smiled.

He sipped his coffee thoughtfully.

"George, be honest with me. Are you alright?" Hermione asked, quietly.

George slowly put his coffee down. "I have everything. I have more Galleons than I could have ever imagined when I was younger. I have success. I have a career. I have an amazing family. I could have almost any woman I could want."

"But you don't have Fred," Hermione volunteered timidly.

George nodded, "It feels ungrateful to complain. I feel like he'd be ashamed of me for being so weak."

"Oh George, don't say that! You're not weak; you're the opposite. You're incredibly strong. You have moved forward in spite of everything. You are still creating, keeping his legacy alive. You're just hitting a bit of a rough patch, emotionally. There's nothing wrong with that."

George just drank his coffee.

"I have a proposition. If you're up for it." Hermione said, "Would you like to stay here for a bit? I have the extra room, it's a real bed, and just to help you get through this. It's best not to be alone when dealing with something like this. Of course it's up to you."

George looked at her. "It's tempting Hermione, but, are you sure? I know how much you love your seclusion. I don't want to intrude."

Hermione laughed. "It would probably be good for me to be around people more. And friends are more important than my solitude."

George nodded slowly, "Give me the day? I'll think on it."

"Of course" Hermione smiled. "Breakfast?" She turned to start cooking but George got up and bumped her out of the way.

"You go sit. I will make breakfast. It's the least I can do after last night, and your very sweet offer." George grinned.

"Can you even cook?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"We aren't all as useless in the kitchen as Won-Won" George laughed.

"I NEVER called him that!" Hermione replied.

George grinned. "My mother is an excellent cook. I picked a few things up from her. Prepare to be amazed." George flourished and conjured a chefs hat.

Within 20 minutes they had a full spread of crepes, omelets, pastries, and fresh squeezed orange juice. George insisted that they use the kitchen table. She hardly ever used it unless she had guests, but George kept proclaiming that she was a heathen, and dragged her over to sit.

"I am VERY impressed." Hermione said, looking at all of the food.

"What'd I tell you!" George said waving his wand so the chefs hat disappeared.

"Okay, my turn! Are YOU ready to be amazed?" Hermione asked.

"Wow me," George leaned back.

Hermione dramatically waltzed into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and pulled out a bottle of champagne.

"What's that for?" George said suspiciously.

"Just trust me." She said grinning as she grabbed two flutes from the cupboard.

She poured champagne about sixty percent of the way, and the rest she filled with George's fresh squeezed orange juice.

"This," She handed him a flute, "Is what muggles call a 'mimosa.' Cheers." She clinked her glass against his and took a sip. He narrowed his eyes and followed suit.

"Wow! This is actually excellent!" He proclaimed, grinning broadly and drinking more.

He pushed some food towards her, "Come on! Tuck in."

They started eating. He really was an excellent cook.

"George, I have a question."

"Uh oh, that can't be good," George chuckled.

"No, it's nothing like that. I'm just curious. What were you doing this morning?"

George grinned sheepishly, "I might have been sneaking out."

"Why would you feel the need to.... oh! ... oh." Her eyes got wide as she understood what he meant.

"I know. Shameless." He laughed and took another bite. "You've never done that to someone? Or, had someone do that to you?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

"NO! No. Never. I wouldn't... well I haven't ever... um..." She blushed and tried to hide behind her glass.

"Awww, innocent little 'Mione," George teased.

"Leave me alone or I'll hex you!" She warned. "I just don't believe in doing... that... casually."

George pointed a fork at her, "Good for you. I could learn a thing or two from you, I'm sure."

Their attention was turned by a sharp rap on the kitchen window.

"I forgot to look at the time when I got woken up by you breaking my flat. What time was it when you were sneaking out?" Hermione asked as she walked over to the window to let the owls in.

"About 5:00," George smiled apologetically.

She paid the Prophet owl, and grabbed three different letters from the other owls. She sat down and handed the prophet to George as she looked through the other letters. She had a letter from Harry, Draco and Mrs. Weasley.

"No drama on you, so that's good" George said as he opened the prophet.

She opened the letter from Harry.

Hey, how are you feeling? Did you get home alright?

Ron had to go to practice hungover and Ginny has been vomiting nonstop all morning. I've gotta stay home and take care of her and Ron said he wanted to go home after practice and pass out for several hours so we probably won't do lunch today, I hope you're not terribly disappointed.

Mrs. Weasley also canceled Sunday brunch this weekend. They're going to Bill's to see the new baby.

I'll see you at work.

She laughed and shook her head. Well now she knew what Mrs. Weasley's letter was about. She opened Draco's letter.

Hello Hermione,

I was wondering if you'd like to dine at my flat with Blaise and me tonight.

We would like to discuss some of this Daily Prophet slander.

Let me know at your earliest convenience.

Draco Malfoy.

She pondered that as she opened Mrs. Weasley's letter and skimmed. It was as Harry had said. She was canceling brunch but promised to have a delicious feast for next weekend.

"What's your plan for today?" She asked George.

"I've gotta get to the shop," George said. "And you?"

"I think I'm going to have dinner at Draco's."

"That could be fun." George said encouragingly. "I'd watch for reporters though, make sure you're not being followed and all that."

Hermione nodded. "That would be prudent."

She grabbed some parchment, scrawled her confirmation for dinner to Draco, and sent it off.

"I think I'll go and nap a bit. It is the weekend after all, and I was woken absurdly early." She winked at George.

"Well, we can't all be layabouts," he teased back. "I'll let you know about your offer tonight. See you around Hermione. I'll let myself out." He waved his wand to clean up the table and walked out.

"Bye George." Her voice trailed off as she walked down the hall to her room. She got into bed, wondering how the evening would be.


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione stood in front of the address that Draco had sent her. She didn't know how formal this would be, so she had worn a flowy knee length black skirt with a crimson blouse and black ballet flats. She was nervous. She didn't know why she was nervous - she had no explanation. However, there she stood, regardless, feeling fluttery. She whirled around when she heard a voice behind her.

"So were you planning on going in? Or were you just going to stand there all night thinking about it?" Blaise raised an eyebrow. He looked as debonair as always.

She sighed and grinned. "Hello Blaise."

Blaise smirked "Shall we?" He gestured. "Preferably sooner than later. I'd rather we didn't have a reporter happen upon us and make the pages tomorrow."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed "Very true. I can just see the headlines now. 'GOLDEN GIRL SLYTHERIN THREESOME'" She grinned mischievously at Blaise who was wearing a rather shocked look.

"Why Miss Granger, I never would have expected that from you." He smiled broadly.

"I know, I'm very buttoned up at work." She laughed.

He put a hand on the small of her back to guide her forward to the building. "Well I hope to see more of this side of you." He winked as he tapped the door twice with his wand and then opened it for her.

She winked back, and then turned and walked backwards to maintain eye contact. "Don't count on it."

Blaise laughed openly as he followed her in.

Hermione stood in the massive foyer with her mouth hanging open. "This is not a flat." She muttered to herself.

Blaise nodded, "No it's more of a townhome, isn't it?"

A small female house elf apparated in front of them with a loud crack. "Mr. Zabini, Miss Granger: Mr. Malfoy is waiting for you in the drawing room if you pleases. Peepy can takes your coats." She bobbed a curtsy.

Hermione smiled gently. "Here you are," she said, as she handed Peepy her coat. Blaise did the same. Peepy snapped her fingers and the coats disappeared. She ushered Blaise and Hermione into the drawing room where Draco sat in a large, tufted dark green arm chair. The room opened up to high vaulted ceilings, and mahogany shelves filled nearly every wall. There was a matching dark green love seat and sofa, a silver drink cart, and tall silver curtains around the window.

Draco stood to greet them, "Hermione, thank you for coming. Good to see you Blaise."

Blaise nodded and walked directly to the drink cart. "Want anything?" Draco waved him off. "I'm fine for now." Hermione smiled at Blaise. "Surprise me?"

She then turned to Draco. "Thank you for inviting me." She smirked, "Nice flat."

He laughed. "It's a bit more than that isn't it."

"A bit!" She exclaimed. "What an understatement."

Blaise walked over and handed her a drink. "Your attempts at being modest are coming across quite snobbish, mate," he teased.

Draco threw an irritated glance at Blaise, who shrugged and said, "It's okay to admit that we are accustomed to a certain standard of living. We grew up much wealthier than the average person. There's no shame in it."

Hermione smiled, "it's nothing. I was only teasing." She set her drink down and walked over to the shelves. "What a collection!" She gasped and spun around, "Draco Malfoy! This entire shelf is muggle novels!" He smiled at her warmly, and clasped his hands behind his back as he walked over to her.

She turned back around and looked closer. Her fingertips brushed expensive leather-bound first edition muggle novels. "The Great Gatsby; Anna Karenina; Great Expectations; Lord of the Flies; War and Peace; Crime and Punishment; Pride and Prejudice?!" She turned quickly, "Draco Malfoy has read Jane Austen?! Can I touch it?"

He stepped forward and pulled it from the shelf and handed it to her. She ran her fingers across the lettering. "It's beautiful," she said, almost breathless.

He smiled at her.

She looked up at him "Why?" The question escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

"Back before I really had changed, I was looking for any reason to prove that blood status meant superiority. I thought if I picked up some muggle books that it would somehow show that muggles were unsophisticated monkeys or savages of some sort. I've always enjoyed reading, you know. I did not find what I was looking for." He smiled and reached out for the book "May I?" She nodded and handed it to him. "I particularly enjoyed this novel. Where was it..." He muttered to himself as he flipped through the pages. "Ah... there it is." He cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow, ""From the very beginning— from the first moment, I may almost say— of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike..." He stopped there. "That passage was particularly eye opening. I felt like she was stripping me down, personally."

She nodded smiling, and from heart recited "I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine."

He grinned abashedly. She took the book and slid it back into the shelf. "This is incredible." She turned back around to see Blaise's glittering eyes watching her from the loveseat. She smiled at him, "Once a bookworm...," He chuckled. "How do you like your drink?"

She picked it back up and sat down on the sofa. "Quite a bit! What is this?"

Blaise smirked. "A muggle secret."

"I am muggle born. You can share it with me." She played along, smiling mischievously.

Blaise looked at Draco "Afraid you'll have to leave the room mate, you don't meet the minimum requirement for this secret."

Draco strutted to the armchair and sat. "You're as pureblooded as I am, Zabini."

Blaise grinned. "Maybe so, but one of my eight thousand stepfathers was muggleborn. So I'm allowed in on the secret."

Hermione sat up straight, suddenly having realized something. "Wait! If this is a muggle drink..." She stood up and walked over to the drink cart. "Apparently muggle books aren't the only thing Mr. Malfoy has been learning about." She said as she picked up a bottle of whiskey.

Draco nodded from his chair "In my search to prove to myself muggles were beneath me, I became fond of quite a few things."

Hermione turned back to him, "I am so incredibly impressed." Draco blushed.

The moment was interrupted by a loud crack, "Babby is here to announce that dinner is ready, Masters Malfoy, Zabini and Miss Granger." The house elf bowed low before apparating away.

Draco stood smoothly and strode across the room, leading the way to the dining room. Blaise also stood, adjusting his jacket, and gestured. Hermione followed after Draco, entering a dining room which, if it were possible, was even more ornate than the last. Plush black and sliver chairs surrounded a sleek black dining room table. A massive crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, and more silver satin curtains hung around every window. The table was set with china and crystal. Draco was already waiting and had pulled a chair for her. She gave him a small smile and went to sit. Draco then sat at the head of the table and Blaise sat across from Hermione. The food suddenly appeared: steak, potatoes, Brussels sprouts, asparagus, and candied carrots. Burgundy colored wine filled their goblets shortly after.

"This is quite fancy," Hermione commented. "I feel as though I'm at a fine restaurant."

Blaise had already tucked in. "We are spoiled. This has been daily eating since infancy."

Hermione considered that. "Wow. This is a treat to me. Are restaurants everywhere just ruined for you?" She smiled to show she was teasing.

Draco gave a small but almost embarrassed smile. "Not quite."

"Draco stop apologizing for your wealth with your face. It's unbecoming." Blaise said. "It's not our fault we were born with money. It's not our fault we enjoy our money. This is life. It doesn't justify being prats about it, but we don't have to apologize for it either."

Hermione smiled, "I agree. It's nothing to be ashamed of." Draco looked at her, rather surprised.

"Well thank you, I'll... work on that."

Silence fell over the table as the three ate.

"Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any to discuss this Skeeter business." Blaise said.

Hermione groaned and rolled her eyes, "I, as a general rule of thumb, don't hate people. But how I hate her."

Draco laughed, "She certainly seems to have a target on your back. Blaise and I were innocent bystanders who got dragged into it. Although, I don't know how I feel about being called a, what was it? 'Slytherin Bad Boy'" He grinned "I know plenty of people who were far more of bad boys that I ever was."

Hermione pursed her lips, "It may have something to do with the fact that I kept her in a jar all summer after our fourth year..."

Blaise choked on his food while Malfoy nearly spat his wine. Hermione gave them a devious smile. "I was trying to teach her a lesson after she had written all of that trash about Harry!"

Blaise's laughter boomed, "I'm going to need some context. A jar?"

"Oh! I probably should have mentioned she's an Animagus. A beetle." She grinned.

Malfoy spoke softly. "You are truly a force to be reckoned with, Granger."

"Anyways, short of putting her back in a jar, I don't think there's much to be done about all of this except for wait for them to find someone else to bother." Hermione said cheerily as she ate.

Blaise nodded. "That may indeed be best." Draco remained silent.

Dinner passed swiftly. The conversation was lively and enjoyable, Blaise spent most of the time teasing Draco for this or that. Hermione noted how different they were, though coming from similar backgrounds. Draco - learning what it was to interact with people without pretense, scrambling through it, not quite sure what was the right thing to say or do. Blaise - being unashamed and bold about his wealth and upbringing, loud and proud if you will. Two Slytherins, both raised in wealth, but raised with completely different intent, and with very different outcomes.

Hermione stood sharply at 8:00pm. "I hate to cut a great night short, but I ought to get home."

Blaise nodded. "I had better go too. May I walk you out?" Hermione nodded.

"Thank you for dinner Draco. It was fun. Let's do it again soon."

He rose and walked up to her. "Thank you for coming." He said.

She smiled cheekily and whispered. "May I suggest one more thing to work on?"

He smiled softly. "Always."

"Try being less somber. What's the point of life if you're not enjoying it?" She looked up at him.

He leaned forward. "Who says I'm not enjoying being somber?" He stood straight and chuckled.

She and Blaise walked out. Peepy arrived to hand them their coats and they stepped out to the cold.

"This was fun." She said to Blaise.

He smiled down at her. "Then let's make it a habit." He gave a small bow and apparated.

She breathed deeply. She never would have thought she'd spend an evening with those two and enjoy it as much as she had. She'd never really had friends who were intellectuals, and Blaise and Draco were both well bred and well read. They'd had a wonderful night debating various written works, art, history, foreign policies, and other such topics that her best friends found a bore. She definitely hoped to repeat this. She apparated, not noticing the curtain movement on the second floor of the house behind her.

She nearly knocked George over. She stumbled back and looked at him. He was standing on her doorstep with a duffel bag over his shoulder. She brightened at the sight of him.

"Let's take it day by day." He said. She threw her arms around him.

"Welcome home, roomie," she beamed, as she opened the door to what was now their flat.


	11. Chapter 11

The following few weeks were a blur. Hermione and George rarely crossed paths; she was usually out in the morning for work before he awoke, and he worked at the shop late into the night before coming home. The media obsession with her eventually seemed to subside. Harry had been right. As long as she was before them doing nothing interesting at all, their interest would wane. 

She awoke the morning of the war celebration to the smell of bacon. She rubbed her eyes and wandered into the kitchen to see George in full chef mode. He glanced over his shoulder. "Good morning roomie. Who would have thought living together would mean I'd see less of you?" He grinned as he handed her a plate. She went instinctively to sit at the island. "Nuh uh." He waved a spatula at her. "Dining table." She rolled her eyes and obeyed. He followed her, arms full of platters. 

As they sat, she said; "I know. Work has been quite hectic. I feel like I'm being swallowed by it."

He nodded knowingly. "I know that feeling well. The shop has been overrun by Hogwarts students lately." 

"I'm sorry. I promised to be there for you during this transition and I've been a pretty bad friend." She looked grim.

"Oi! Stop with the moping. You'll ruin the bacon. Trust me, just having an actual bed and a comfortable home has been more than enough to lift my spirits. You were right - living in the shop wasn't good for my psyche." He smiled cheerily at her. 

The fireplace suddenly roared, and Ginny stepped out, tossing a garment bag over the couch. "You. OUT." She gestured at her older brother. 

He shot her an irritated look. "I live here, you know." 

She crossed her arms. "We need to get ready and I'm not doing it in front of my husband. You can go to our house to prepare for tonight. Now go!" She marched towards him, flapping her arms aggressively. 

"Geez woman! More like your mother every day!" He shot back, ducking as she threw a magazine at him furiously. 

"I am NOT!" She yelled, stamping her foot. 

He cackled as he ran to his room. He walked out moments later with a suit bag in hand. He nodded toward Hermione. "I'll see you tonight. I'll be the one with the red hair." He winked as he stepped into the fireplace and disappeared with a "Grimmaulds place!"

Ginny turned to Hermione. "How do you put up with that daily? And WILLINGLY? I was forced to live with him, you actually chose it." She sat in George's chair, picking at his food. 

Hermione laughed. "It helps that he's not my older brother." 

Ginny nodded thoughtfully, crunching bacon. "That's true." She shrugged and stood. "Hurry up, we need to get ready." 

Hermione looked at her watch. "Gin, it's barely 9am. You expect this process to take 7 hours?" She raised her eyebrow. 

Ginny threw her a serious look. "Yes. I do. I'm doing your makeup by the way. You're not going all minimalist today. It's a gala." She grabbed Hermione by the wrist, and yanked her up. "Come on then!" Hermione's head fell back as she groaned, being dragged by the far too enthusiastic Weasley. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ginny finished Hermione's hair and makeup after 2 painfully long hours. "Are you ready?" She asked excitedly. 

"For this to be over? Yes." Hermione responded, sarcastically. 

Ginny glared at her. "You look so beautiful that I'm not going to take that offensively." She handed Hermione a mirror. 

Hermione looked over herself in shock. Her hair had curls leading back into a plaited low bun; not a stray hair out - smooth, and perfectly put together. Her makeup was done in such a way that looked natural, but accentuated her better features. Her eyebrows looked sleek and her eyelashes were nothing short of luscious. There was a subtle rosy color to her cheeks that brought life to her face, finished with a nude pink lip. She was stunned. "Gin, wow. I hardly look like myself." 

Ginny leaned close to her. "I disagree. I think you look exactly like yourself. Just more bold." She stood smiling. "Okay my turn. Go away, and don't ruin your face." 

Hermione went to busy herself with some reading as Ginny did her own makeup and hair. The few hours passed quickly as she immersed herself in a book. When Ginny walked out, she looked like she were ready for a Muggle runway. She had a smokey eyelid and a bold crimson lip. She had curled her red hair so it fell down her right shoulder, framing her face. 

Hermione looked up at her. "Harry will be the envy of all the men there tonight." She smiled affectionately at her friend.

Ginny gestured towards the bedroom. "Show me what you're wearing." Hermione walked to her closet and pulled out a simple black evening gown with a drooping low back, and handed it to Ginny. 

Ginny looked at the dress, and then at her. "No." 

Hermione gave her an irritated look, "What do you mean no? That's all I have." Ginny beamed and unzipped the garment bag. "No it's not!" She pulled out a beautiful shimmery pink champagne dress. 

"Gin..." Hermione started, but Ginny interrupted. "Put it on. If you don't feel like a princess, you don't have to wear it." 

Hermione glared at her. "I'm holding you to that." She took the dress to the loo and closed the door in Ginny's face. 

When Hermione stepped out, Ginny's face lit. "Oh Hermione! You look incredible! How can you NOT wear this dress?" 

Hermione surveyed herself in the mirror. The dress hugged her figure from her bust to her upper thigh, and then flowed straight down to the ground. The top had a sweetheart neckline with sleeves that hung off her shoulders. The fabric crossed back over itself, cinching her waist. She turned to Ginny. "Well you certainly know my taste." 

Ginny walked over to her. "It's more than what you'd ever buy for yourself because you don't think it's a dress you'd look good in. But you're wrong, so I got it for you." She grinned. 

Hermione smiled sheepishly. "I'll wear it." 

Ginny squealed and then pulled out a pair of nude pumps with pointed toes. "Good! Put these on while I change." She snatched her own gown before bounding into the loo. Ginny emerged moments later in a pale green dress with a square neckline and a slit up to her thigh. She snagged a small package from the garment bag and handed it to Hermione. "From Mum." She smiled as she reached back into the bag and put some pearl studs in her ears. Hermione carefully opened the package to reveal a set of beautiful gold earrings. She slipped them in and looked in the mirror. They had three long tendrils that curved around each other and stopped mid neck. She saw a small note, which she picked up and read:

I was with Ginny when we went dress shopping and I couldn't pass these up for you. Enjoy them. 

Hermione smiled softly. Ginny grabbed a silver clutch. "Are you ready?" Ginny asked. Hermione walked with her to the door, "For this to be over?" She grinned teasingly. Ginny rolled her eyes. "You need to stop hanging out with George."


	12. Chapter 12

The girls walked outside to see George and Harry leaning against a ministry car on the street, waiting for them. When they looked up to see Hermione and Ginny walk down the steps, their jaws hung. Harry walked over to Ginny and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Breathtaking." She smiled and gave him a quick peck. "Don't ruin my hair." He opened the door for her to get into the car. At the same time, George had just gaped at Hermione. She shifted uncomfortably. "I know it's a bit much." She smiled weakly. He walked over to her and put a large hand on her back. "It's just enough. I'm very lucky to have you as my date. Come on then," and he ushered her into the car after Ginny. Harry stopped and grinned at her. "Wow Hermione. Gorgeous." He kissed her cheek. She smiled. "Blame your wife. She's responsible for all of this," she said before sliding into the car after Ginny.

The ministry car pulled up to the venue. Upon seeing the crowd, Hermione became suddenly nervous. "That's a lot of reporters. Is there usually that many reporters?" She stammered. Harry nodded gruffly, "Every year." Hermione flushed, "I shouldn't have worn this dress. It draws too much attention," she mumbled playing with the fabric. Ginny leaned over and said, "The dress is perfect. It'll hopefully draw attention away from what guy you may or may not be with, and draw attention to the right things. Like how much of a rockstar you are." Hermione nodded and smiled, weakly. "I can do this." George patted her knee, "Besides, you're not alone. The cavalry is here." As the car slowed, she saw every member of the Weasley family, along with Luna, Neville, Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Kingsley, Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, and many other remaining members of Dumbledore's Army. Amongst them were the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix, standing at the curb, all waiting for this car. She felt stronger at the sight of them.

Harry and George exited the car first. Ginny followed Harry. Hermione took a deep breath, preparing herself. George stood by the door and held his hand out for her. She took it, and he helped her out of the car. The reporters went wild. He leaned down. "Rockstar remember? You've got this." She walked over to stand with her family, George trailing close behind. Luna spoke first, "We thought you could use some support today. It was George's idea." Hermione gazed up at him in wonder. "You did this?" George smiled down at her, "Who says this is for you? For all you know, I just wanted to hang out with some of my best friends." She leaned in, "You don't fool me." Cameras flashed nonstop catching the reunion while reporters screamed questions.

"Miss Granger! Are you seeing George Weasley?" "Molly Weasley! How do you feel about Miss Granger hopping from son to son?" "Miss Granger! What happened between you and Draco Malfoy? Did you break up?" "Miss Granger! When did you and Mr. Weasley start dating?" "Miss Granger! Who are you wearing?"

Mrs. Weasley walked to Hermione and took her hand, squeezing it gently. She turned gracefully to the reporters. "Hermione is a part of our family, and she came to this event with our family. Please remember what this celebration is for. We are here to honor those who fought for our freedom." She reached up and cupped George's face gently, tears welling. "And to honor those we lost." She turned back to the reporters. "Write on that." And with that she led the way up to the building, the rest of the group following closely behind.

Hermione leaned over to George. "Your mom is incredible." He smiled widely. "She really is something, isn't she?" He responded, a little watery.

They entered the ballroom together and found their name cards. Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, McGonagall, Kingsley, Flitwick, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, and Hagrid all were seated together. George and Hermione looked for their table, and found themselves seated with Harry, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Ron, and his date Eliza. Ginny wouldn't let anyone sit, however. "Music's already going. Come on, you lot! Let's go." She grabbed her husband and gestured everyone onto the dance floor. They obeyed, grudgingly. George took Hermione into his arms and started to waltz.

"Someone paid attention in Professor McGonagall's class, fourth year!" She exclaimed, smiling.

He grinned. "Fifth year for me. And yes, it definitely has helped me with the ladies over the years."

She rolled her eyes. "George, thank you for earlier. Outside I mean. It helped. Truly" He simply nodded as he spun her round. The song ended, and someone tapped in. Blaise smiled at George. "May I steal your date for a moment?" George nodded. "I'm gonna go see if McGonagall will dance with me." He winked, before disappearing into the crowd of dancers.

Blaise took Hermione and led her through an easy foxtrot. "I have to say, I was quite stunned when I saw you. You look ravishing." He smiled charmingly down at her. She blushed, profusely.

She quickly changed the subject, not knowing how to take a compliment. "Where's your date? Aren't they jealous?" She teased.

He grinned, "My date will be here shortly. Trust me, they'll steal the show." He spun her around a smooth promenade. Almost on cue, the music stuttered to a halt and the room fell silent. She turned to see what it was, and saw Draco Malfoy standing at the entrance of the hall, clad in an elegant black suit, his platinum hair slicked back. Everyone just stared at him. Looking around, Hermione realized many were actually glaring. "Blaise, we have to help him," she said a bit frantically, feeling the group hostility brewing. She slipped from his arms and crossed the hall to Draco. She was pleasantly surprised but incredibly grateful when she arrived to him at the same time as Ron and Harry. The room remained silent to hear what they said. Before Hermione could say anything, Harry went full 'Chosen One' and announced for everyone to hear, "Draco, I'm so glad you're here." Ron nodded and thumped him on the back awkwardly, "Good to see you mate." Hermione just beamed. Draco's awkward smile relaxed as his eyes met hers.

Immediately, the room bustled again. No one was going to argue with 'Harry Boy Who Lived Potter.' The music started up again. Draco said softly, "I appreciate it, but that wasn't necessary." Ron shrugged. "How'd you even get in?" Blaise walked up. "I see you've met my date." Hermione turned on Blaise. "You are such a trouble maker!" He smirked, "Cunning." Her eyes glinted in reply. "And what ends are you trying to achieve here, Slytherin?" He bent to her ear. "My secret." Before she could respond with indignance, George arrived. "Sorry mate, gotta steal my date back now." He wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist and guided her away as she shot Blaise a "This isn't over" stare over her shoulder.

"No murder at the war celebration, Hermione." George said, grinning.

"He practically fed Draco to the sharks!" Hermione exclaimed, furiously.

George stopped and turned Hermione to face him. "Hermione, you cannot treat Draco like a helpless child. He is a man who is capable of handling himself. Don't belittle him by treating him like glass. That'll do more damage than anything else."

She chewed on that thought for a moment. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

He grinned again. "Of course not. That's why I'm here. Now come on, let's have a good night. Have some champagne." He snagged a couple of glasses off of a passing tray.

Just as dinner appeared, Harry stood up suddenly, saying: "I need to handle something, give me a minute," and strode across the hall. Two new chairs and place settings appeared at the table, and Harry appeared with Blaise and Draco. Pleasantly surprised, Hermione began: "What-" Harry shook his head. She stopped. He'd tell her later.

Blaise took the chair beside Luna, and Draco sat next to Harry. The dinner conversation was comfortable, as though they had all always been friends. Lee and George cracked jokes endlessly. Luna and Blaise seemed to take to one another. He seemed to find her oddities endearing. She was not nearly as openly eccentric as she had been as a younger person. With maturity, she had learned to keep some of her quirks more hidden. Blaise however, sat there actively asking her about her strange convictions regarding Nargles, Wrackspurts, Gulping Plimpies and other mythical beings. She came alive next to him in a way that Hermione hadn't seen in a long time. Every so often, Blaise looked up at Hermione, and a twinkle passed between them. Harry and Draco were engrossed in a conversation concerning Auror work. Draco shared that he had once dreamed of being an Auror, but that his father had shut that idea down quickly. Ron, Ginny, and Angelina were engaged in a heated discussion about Quidditch. Hermione just sat back, enjoying all of the people she cared for. Suddenly, the room darkened.

The projection began. Every year at the end of the celebration, all of those who were lost in the War were projected through a pensieve, while the band played a morose ballad in remembrance. The room fell silent. Colin Creevy; Lavender Brown; Remus Lupin; Nymphadora Tonks; Albus Dumbledore; face after face of the Fallen Fifty flashed through the room. The grief was palpable. Fred's face came up, lit with laughter and mischief. Hermione reached under the table and grabbed George's hand. He had a strangled look on his face. The projection ended, and everyone applauded. Collectively, they rose to leave.

As the group was exiting the building, Draco was being attacked by a wall of reporters, who screamed obscenities about how he dared show his face here. Blaise was nowhere to be found. Molly Weasley marched over before anyone could react, and instantly, the reporters fell silent. She positioned herself right in front of Draco, and said, "He's with us." She grabbed his wrist and brought him over to their group. Draco stammered, "You- You don't have - It's alright - I don't deserve-" Molly cut him off firmly. "You're here. You've changed. You've made reparations. It's enough for me." She grabbed her husband and ushered the lot of them over to the waiting ministry cars.


	13. Chapter 13

The ride to the Burrow was filled with laughter, conversation, and champagne. Everyone spilled out of the ministry cars upon arrival. Mrs. Weasley had arranged large white party tents lined with cream colored outdoor sofas, a dance floor, champagne, and a selection of desserts in the yard for an intimate after-party. Blaise, somehow, was already there waiting. As Hermione marched up to him, he smirked.

"How are you even here right now?" She growled, exasperated. Ginny blew past her to embrace him warmly. "I'm so glad you could make it, Zabini!" She said happily. "I guess that answers that," Hermione muttered, under her breath.

Draco strode up to them, glass in hand. "Ah, my dashing date." He smiled cheekily as he took a swig of his drink. "Not a very good one," Hermione remarked. "I take offense to that." Blaise said also swiping a glass from a floating tray. "You abandoned him there!" Hermione exclaimed. Blaise shrugged nonchalantly. "He managed just fine." She opened her mouth to reply hotly, but a bit of cookie was stuffed in it before she could. George grinned at her as she glared and reluctantly chewed. "The after-party is supposed to be fun! Let's dance." George grabbed Hermione and dragged her to the dance floor to join Luna, who was swaying and bouncing by herself, and batting at the air. Ginny followed closely behind, hauling a disgruntled Blaise. "Weaselette, I am perfectly fine on my own. Not to mention, we've abandoned my date." She stuck her finger in his face, "For the last time, DON'T call me that. And he's coming shortly." Sure enough, a slightly pink Draco was being brought to the floor by Gabrielle Delacour, Fleur's younger sister.

The music suddenly became quiet, and everyone turned to see Bill standing at the head of the dance floor, with his wand tip to his throat, "Sonoros. Ahem. Thank you to everyone who is here, our dear friends and family. We decided, this year, to arrange this little gathering after the War Celebration, to drink and be merry, as my dear little brother Freddie would have wanted us to. So drink! Dance! And have a magical night. I can't wait to spend it with you all. Cheers!"

Everyone shouted "Cheers," and the music boomed while the lights dimmed. There were no real partners now - everyone was dancing together. 

After about an hour had passed, Hermione flopped down on one of the sofas next to Harry and Ron, thoroughly tipsy, and with a strong blush going from the dancing.

"I'm knackered!" She said, snagging another glass of champagne.

Harry nodded. "Can you believe that five years ago, the three of us were running around the forest of Dean, looking for Horcruxes?"

Ron finished his drink. "Bugger mate, it's surreal. It's crazy to think we survived it all."

Harry twiddled his thumbs. "I- Can I tell you guys something? No judgement?"

Ron, already sipping on another drink, looked at Harry mischievously. "You can always tell us stuff! No promises on the judgement though," he finished with a glint in his eye.

Harry twitched his wrist and a throw pillow flipped up and smacked Ron in the side of the head. "OI - gonna make me spill!"

Hermione laughed. "You're both children. Yes Harry, you can tell us anything."

Harry almost whispered. "I've always been embarrassed to say it. I felt like I was dishonoring Dumbledore's memory but... I was so sure we were going to fail and die."

They were all silent for a moment, and suddenly Ron and Hermione both started sputtering, snorting, and cackling.

"WHAT!" Harry burst, thoroughly humiliated.

"Oh Harry! We aren't laughing AT you. Well at least I'm not." She put her hand on his arm, "I was also pretty certain we were all going to fail and die."

Ron hiccuped and hung his long arm around Harry's neck, "Mate, I was so sure that we were going to die that I up and left halfway through."

Hermione grimaced, "But you came back."

Ron nodded grinning, "I came back to die with my best mates."

They all looked at each other and burst into uproarious laughter once again. Hermione leaned over and hugged both of her friends. "But we didn't die. We won." Harry nodded solemnly, "I carry the price of that freedom with me daily." Ron nodded as well, "We all do, mate."

"The depression on this side of the room is palpable. Quit it, you three. You're ruining the party." George said, standing before them with Ginny, arms crossed.

"Come on honey, let's dance." Ginny took Harry's hand and walked him to the dance floor.

George batted his eyes and mimicked Ginny in a high voice, "Come on honey, let's dance." And much to Hermione and Ron's surprise, he grabbed Ron and frog marched him to the dance floor, while Hermione giggled from the couch.

She lounged now, stretching out a bit and kicking off her shoes as she scanned the room. Bill, Fleur, Charlie, and Percy were sitting on the couches on the far side of the room, chatting merrily. Neville, Lee, Seamus, and Dean sat at another couch, huddled over something, mischief in their eyes. Hagrid, Mcgonagall, Slughorn, and Flitwick were chortling over by the chocolate fountain. Luna, Blaise, Ginny, Harry, George, Ron, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson were all dancing with wild abandon. Her eyes travelled lazily on, until she saw a flash of platinum in the gap in the tents. She saw Draco standing outside of the tents, speaking to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley was crying. She suddenly sprang forward and embraced Draco, who, although first looking deeply uncomfortable, relaxed into the hug, and embraced her back. They separated, and Draco and Mr. Weasley shook hands. The three re-entered the tent, Mr. Weasley's hand on Draco's shoulder. Draco locked eyes with Hermione and crossed the tent. The sofa dipped as he sat beside her.

"Wonderful people. The Weasleys." Draco commented fidgeting.

Hermione sighed and smiled, teasingly. "Even though they live in a hovel?"

Draco cringed. "Let's not repeat the words of second-year Draco."

Hermione laughed broadly, "You know Draco? I really admire you. The way you've changed and grown and taken responsibility for your mistakes, is amazing. But it's okay to laugh at yourself. Don't wish who you were away." She grabbed a couple of drinks from passing trays and handed him one. "I, for one, can admit that I was a stuck up obnoxious know-it-all."

"Who couldn't stand breaking any rules," Ron added, as he threw himself sideways on the sofa next to Draco.

"And thought expulsion was worse than death," Harry agreed as he, Ginny, and George joined them. Harry and Ginny sat on the other side of her while George sat on the ground near her legs.

"Don't exaggerate!" Hermione said hotly.

"Exaggerate! You're kidding right?" Ron exclaimed, incredulously, sitting up on his elbow.

Harry copped a high pitched nasal voice. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves."

Ron followed suit. "We could have all been killed -"

Both boys leaned in and said together, "OR WORSE, EXPELLED."

"Alright! Alright!" Hermione shouted over them as the group laughed at her.

"What a prat." George said still laughing.

"We were in our first year, and THESE two decided to duel - well, Draco actually..." She stopped lamely, looking at Draco for reassurance.

Draco laughed, good-naturedly. "I forgot about that! We didn't even show. We just told Filch we heard you two were planning on sneaking into the trophy room in the middle of the night."

Ron shook his head. "Speaking of prats."

George interjected. "I'm still waiting on the almost killed part."

Harry grinned. "Well, when we heard Filch coming, we ran down the corridor, on the third floor... if you lot remember Dumbledore's warning that year at the start of term..." He paused, and watched horror dawn on everyone's faces as Hermione dropped her forehead to her hand.

Ron was shaking with laughter. "Imagine us, plus Neville, titchy ickle firsties turning 'round to be nose to nose with Hagrid's ridiculous, massive, three-headed dog!"

Ginny gasped, throwing her hands over her mouth. "NO!"

Hermione nodded knowingly. "We barely got out in time. I think the only reason it didn't immediately eat us is because it was as stunned as we were."

They all laughed. "Granger, how DID you and Longbottom even get dragged into that?" Draco asked, curiously.

Hermione uncrossed and recrossed her legs. "Well, Neville had been locked out of the tower. You see, he had kept forgetting the passwords -"

"And this one couldn't help but wait up for us just to yell at us and boss us around!" Ron interrupted.

Hermione laughed and nodded. "You were both being idiots! And besides! I ended up being totally correct!" She leaned over to Draco. "See? Laughing at your old self is fun."

Ron leaned in too. "Except for her, it's just laughing at her current self. She's still bossy."

Hermione smacked him. "I'm also still usually correct!"

George laughed and poked her side, "I'll never forget you threatening to write Mum if me and Fred kept testing our products on younger students." Hermione rolled her eyes.

Harry leaned back, arms crossed behind his head. "Fat lot of good that did you. They kept on, but were just more sneaky about it."

George flicked his wand and summoned another floating drink tray. He handed out glasses and then raised his own: "To Hogwarts shenanigans!"

They all cheered and clanged glasses.


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione woke to the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds, as the sun rose. She blinked as she looked around. Harry and Ginny were curled up together at the far end of the sofa. Ron was sprawled out next to them, his feet up over the back of a love seat. George was asleep on the other side of Hermione, his head rolled back against the sofa, mouth agap. She slowly sat up and saw that many of the younger crowd had just passed out wherever they could find space - sofas, the ground, wherever. Dean had just lain in the middle of the dance floor. She chuckled to herself as she pulled her hair down, letting her curls cascade down her shoulders. She stood up, and walked out of the tents, not bothering to put on her heels. Draco was standing by the lake.

She stopped next to him, and he glanced down at her with a hint of a smile. "Did you enjoy last night?" She asked.

He clenched and unclenched his hand before speaking. "Very much. I never would have dreamed that I could ever have this." He turned to face her. "You have all been so kind to me, so forgiving."

She smiled gently. "I'm glad you feel welcomed, Draco. I really enjoyed my time with you and Blaise, the other night. As much as I love my friends, I don't usually get to discuss those kinds of topics with them."

Draco chuckled. "It was the most fun I had had in awhile, myself." He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. "We should make it a habit."

Hermione bounced on her heels. "Bimonthly? We could take turns hosting! Well, I don't want to speak for Blaise. I don't know if he would mind hosting, but I wouldn't mind."

"Blaise wouldn't mind. He also happens to think that would be a great idea." Draco and Hermione turned to see Blaise approaching them, taking long, graceful strides.

Hermione grinned. "I didn't see you in there!"

He stopped before them. "I have to say Granger, the disheveled look suits you. I almost like you more like this than last night. You look positively wild." His eyes glinted. She blushed and fidgeted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"I don't know how to respond to that." She said finally after a long silence.

Draco took a step towards her and threw a look at his friend. "Zabini, stop torturing her. Honestly, what is anyone supposed to say to something like that. I also didn't see you in the tents when I woke, either."

Blaise looked at her a moment longer before finally raising his eyes to meet Draco's. "I was having a lovely moment with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley over tea in the house."

The three started walking back towards the tents. Draco raised an eyebrow. "That's new."

Blaise shrugged. "Hardly. I've known Arthur and Molly for years."

"What?" Draco and Hermione said simultaneously.

Blaise shot them a bemused look. "Weaselette and I dated, briefly. I met Arthur and Molly during one of the Hogsmeade weekends."

"How did I not know this?" Hermione exclaimed, thoroughly shocked.

"We were very private about it. The blood status issue was becoming increasingly problematic, and the Weasleys were known blood traitors. For us to be public with our relationship would have only put both of us in danger. We realized after a couple of months that we were better off as friends. We remained close throughout the war, and once it was over, we became closer. As friends, of course," Blaise explained.

Draco and Hermione stayed silent, processing. Finally, Hermione broke the silence. "I can see it actually, you and Gin..."

Blaise grimaced. "It started with me pissing her off during a slug club meet. She hit me with a bat bogey hex."

Draco raised his eyebrow, confused. "And that led to you dating?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Well, I couldn't very well let her get away with it. So I grabbed her and pulled her in for a good smooch, bogeys hanging off of my face and all that."

Hermione snickered, knowing Ginny's temperament well. "Did she hit you with another hex immediately after?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Blaise grumbled.

They entered the tent, Hermione and Draco chuckling while Blaise looked at them, thoroughly disgruntled. They practically collided with Ginny, Harry, Ron, and George.

"Hey you lot! How're you feeling?" Hermione greeted. Ron groaned loudly. Ginny just hung from Harry, who fought to stand upright while looking very green.

"-oi! Too loud... brain doesn't like-" He finished by vomiting magnanimously into a nearby planter.

George pulled out a puking pastille, broke it in half, and handed half to Harry. "Here mate. Anyone else want one? Won't do anything for the headache, but it'll help with the nausea."

Ginny and Ron both held out their hands in response. Harry squinted at Hermione, Blaise, and Draco. He pointed at them. "Hey... How are you three even upright?"

"Well, we all know Hermione is a vampiress who never gets hangovers...," Ginny glared at Hermione, who shrugged.

Blaise patted Ginny on the head. "Pureblood secret, Weaselette."

"I will kill you, Zabini. I'll do it." Ginny snarled. Blaise snickered.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Here." He pulled a small vial out of his coat. "It's a potion our house elves make for us. It helps with minor ailments: headaches; dehydration; achy muscles, and such. Just a drop on the tongue will do the trick." He handed the vial to Ginny, who eyeballed it with suspicion.

"What is in it?" Hermione asked curiously.

"We don't actually know. The house elves make it for us, but they won't tell us what's in it." Draco replied.

"That's terrifying." Ginny said before putting a small drop on her tongue. The difference in her posture and demeanor was instantaneous. "Whoa..." She looked at the small vial in her hand. "That's amazing."

Harry, Ron, and George all followed suit. George held onto it longer, examining the liquid. He finally turned to hand it back to Draco, who shook his head. "Keep it. I can have them whip up more for me. Perhaps you could reverse engineer it and sell it at your shop."

George grinned. "Thanks mate, I appreciate it." Malfoy just nodded.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley appeared beside them, followed by Bill, Charlie, and Percy.

"Good Morning dears!" Mrs. Weasley greeted. "Who's ready for breakfast?" And with the word 'breakfast,' she brandished her wand. The dance floor disappeared: Dean Thomas became airborne and was dropped on a nearby couch; a massive rectangular table appeared, followed by chairs; and finally, food was summoned as the table set itself.

"We're going to go wake the young'ns." Bill said, gesturing for Charlie and Percy to follow.

"Blaise dear, thank you for lending me your house elves. They were a wonderful help this morning. I hardly did a thing!" Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully, as she swished her wand one final time.

Blaise waved her off. "It's nothing, Molly. Anytime, really. Would you like to keep one or two?"

Mrs. Weasley faltered for a moment. "Oh, I couldn't. Besides, I think our Hermione would be disappointed in me."

Hermione shook her head. "I realized, after Winky, that as long as the house elves are happy, that's what's important. It's not up to me to mandate what their lives should look like if they don't want it. However, I've been working on a law about House Elf Treatment. I don't ever want another house elf to have to shut their hands in an oven, or beat themselves at the command of sadistic wizards."

Blaise nodded grimly. "Quite true. Absolutely savage. Really Molly, I don't need 15 house elves. Consider it an early Christmas gift. Please, pick one."

Mrs. Weasley looked at Mr. Weasley uncertainly. Mr. Weasley wrapped an arm around Mrs. Weasley and smiled at Blaise's outstretched hand. "Thank you, son. That's incredibly generous of you." They shook hands.

"Come! Let's eat before the food cools." Mrs. Weasley stated mistily, ushering everyone to the table.

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Draco, Blaise, Hermione, and George waved off the last of the guests as they apparated in the clearing.

"Well, I'd best be off as well. I'm to have lunch with my mother." Draco shook George's hand warmly, nodded at Blaise, and turned to Hermione. "Hermione, it is always truly a pleasure." She surprised him when she stepped into his frame to give him a warm hug. "Goodbye Draco. I'll see you Saturday evening?" He nodded, stepped back, and turned on the spot, apparating away.

Blaise remained, with an unreadable expression on his face. George grinned. "Ready to go home Hermione?" She groaned. "Yes, please, I cannot wait to get out of this dress."

Blaise reached out and touched her elbow. "Could I have a moment Granger?" She glanced at George. "I'll be home in a bit." He smiled warmly. "Alright. Later Blaise." He left with a resounding 'crack.'

"What is it?" Hermione asked gently, "Is everything alright?"

Blaise didn't respond to that, but simply stated, "I would like to take you out."


	15. Chapter 15

Hermione blinked, processing. "You would like to... what?"

"Don't be coy, Granger. You are a beautiful, strong, intelligent, and kind woman. It cannot be a surprise that I would be interested," he said frankly.

Hermione stammered. "I... I guess I don't see myself that way."

He stepped toward her. "Well, I'd like to teach you to, if you'd allow me."

"Will we still be friends? If things don't work out?" Hermione vocalized her fear, quietly.

Blaise reached down and gently tilted her chin up til her eyes met his. "Undoubtedly."

She played with her fingers while she thought about it. "Alright." She spoke slowly, "Okay. Sure, let's take it one date at a time."

He smiled brightly. "Alright. Wednesday? Say seven?" She nodded. He took her hand and kissed it, before apparating. 

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Hermione walked through the door of her flat to see George dancing around the kitchen, singing along to something on the radio while he cooked. He was wearing faded jeans and a white v neck tee. His hair was wet, presumably from a shower he had taken to freshen up upon getting home. She stopped and watched him with a small smile playing on her lips. He had shed some of the heaviness around him. She hadn't noticed it until now, seeing the difference in him, that it had been there for years. 

He caught sight of her and nearly dropped the pan. "BUGGER! Don't sneak up on a bloke like that. I almost dropped lunch!" He flourished his wand and the grilled cheeses he was making browned perfectly and levitated onto waiting plates.

"Let me get out of this dress and I'll join you." She dropped her keys on the foyer table and went to her room to change. She emerged 15 minutes later, hair damp, and clad in a tan loungewear set. George was already waiting for her at the dining table. 

As she sat, he shoved her plate at her. "How'd you enjoy last night?"

"It was fun! The after-party was a stroke of genius. Your idea?" She said before taking a bite and groaning. "George, this is positively sinful." 

George waggled his eyebrows playfully. "Weasley secret. And yes, how'd you know?"

Hermione shrugged casually. "It's your style." 

"What'd Zabini want?" George flicked his wand, summoning pomegranate juice to the table. 

Hermione caught her cup as it floated towards her, and set it down. "He... uh... He asked me out." 

Something flickered across George's face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He nodded, unsurprised. "I figured as much. When's your date?"

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Who says I said yes!?" 

George grinned. "Intuition - nay, wisdom! You'll understand when you grow up." He posed dramatically before dropping the act, while she giggled, shaking her head. After all, he was only a year older than she. "If you had rejected him, you would have said it differently," he finished. 

Hermione paused. "How do you know that?" 

George tossed the last of his sandwich into his mouth. "Woman, I've known you for the better part of a decade and a half. Of course I know that." 

"I guess I never thought you were paying me any mind." Hermione fiddled uncomfortably with her crust. 

George threw his head back and started laughing, boisterously. 

"WHAT!?" Hermione said, confused, all the while fighting the urge to join him. His laugh was infectious. 

George calmed himself. "Hermione, you're ridiculous. Trust me, plenty of people were paying attention to you. It's hard not to. You, however, were so busy with your face three inches from any given textbook through your school years, and now with work or research, that you are completely oblivious to how people see you. And yet, somehow, in that twisted little brain of yours, you chalk it up to them 'not paying you any mind.'" He smiled warmly. "Absurd." 

He shook his head and cleared the plates as Hermione sat motionless, dumbfounded. He had made her feel very foolish and ignorant. She wasn't used to feeling this way, and she hated it. To top it off, he was still laughing at her as he stood in front of the refrigerator, looking for something else to eat. He was on his way back to the table holding a plate of fruit, when she cast a nonverbal spell that stuck his feet in place. He looked at her immediately, knowing it was her doing. He shrugged calmly and started to reach into the plate of fruit to eat. She summoned the plate, but his beater instincts kicked in and he nicked a strawberry off of the top. Before he could toss it in his mouth she summoned that too. 

He glared at her, exasperated. "Can I HELP you?" 

"You called me self absorbed. I'm exacting revenge." She smirked, mischievously. 

"THAT'S what you took away from all of that!" He rolled his eyes and ran his hands over his face. "Only a woman-" 

"HEY!" She shouted indignantly.

"IT'S TRUE!" He practically bellowed back. "Only a woman could take an entire monologue of compliments and turn it into an insult! The whole point of that was that you are amazing Hermione, and everyone knows it but you." 

She flushed, embarrassed. 

He narrowed his eyes, realization dawning. "Or... that's not the real reason you're mad. You're mad because for once, the great Hermione Granger feels dumb." He spoke faster as he watched her, knowing he was right. She flushed more. "You're mad because I made you feel like a nitwit, and you hate -" She had cast a nonverbal 'silencio.' He opened his mouth and closed it, glaring at her.

Suddenly, all of her charms fell off of him. "You're not the only one who can cast nonverbals, Granger. Should have done a full body bind." She hadn't noticed during his monologue that his hand had slipped behind his back. He brought it forward now, showing he had his wand in hand. 

She froze. Payback was coming and she knew it. This was George, not Ron. He wasn't just a prankster; he could be quite vengeful too. She gulped. He stalked forward and she bolted, squealing. She didn't look behind her, but she heard him growl. "Oh, you better run." 

Hermione vaulted over the loveseat and circled back to the kitchen, with George hot on her heels. She could only run so far in the flat; there was not much room. Thinking fast, she ran to the fireplace, snatched some floo powder, and shouted the first place she thought of. "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes!" The last thing she saw before disappearing was George's shocked face. 

Luckily, the store was closed. She hadn't actually planned for that, but she was glad. She knew he'd be right behind her so she sprinted across the store and hid behind one of the giant clown statues in a corner. Sure enough, the fireplace whooshed, just moments after. 

"You did not think this through. This is my territory," George announced confidently, as he prowled about. She clamped her hand over her mouth, fighting back giggles. He walked into the back room. She stood there wracking her brain, trying to decide how best to make her way back to the floo. Before she could make a move, a long arm snaked from the curtain behind her, and she heard George's voice in her ear. "Like I said: 'MY territory'." He yanked her back as she yelped.

"What -" She looked at where they were. It was a secret passageway that came from the storage room. "Of course. Of COURSE you have a secret passage in your shop." She looked up at him in exasperation. 

He beamed down at her. "'A passage?' Who do you think I am? There are several." His expression turned playfully wicked. 

She squeaked timidly. "I surrender?" 

"It's a little late for that," he said huskily. 

She covered her face with her hands. "Alright fine, whatever hex you hit with me, make sure its not the face and I can remove it before work tomorrow." 

He was silent for a moment before laughing. He pulled her hands from her face. "I'm not going to hex you, woman." 

She peered at him cautiously. "But what -"

He grinned evilly. "You'll see at home." And dragged her back to the floo.


	16. Chapter 16

George was sitting longways across the couch with his legs in Hermione's lap. 

"I can't believe you." Hermione grumbled, as she rubbed his feet.

George grinned and wiggled his toes. "Make sure you get the arches - they cramp." 

She glared at him as she jammed her knuckle into his arch. George reached over and snatched up the tele remote. He flicked it on and started flipping through channels. Hermione raised an eyebrow. "How do you know how to-" 

George glanced at her, smugly. "You do remember what department my father works in?"

"Well yes!" Hermione started, exasperated. "But, he was never very good at actually understanding muggle artifacts, you know."

George shot her a reproachful look, then suddenly grinned. "Nah - I'm just kidding. I know my dad was garbage at actually getting how muggle stuff worked. I dated a pretty muggle girl for a bit though, and she showed me all kinds of things. I think she thought I was a bit daft at first, not knowing what a cell phone or a tele were...."

Hermione paused her kneading. "What happened?" 

George shrugged and shifted uncomfortably. "Voldemort happened. I didn't want to put her at risk. I obliviated her, and she never saw me again." 

Hermione sat up. "Did you ever go and look for her, after the war?" 

George nodded slowly. "She was married to a muggle bloke. They had a baby on the way." He rubbed the back of his neck, "Wow. That got depressing. Why aren't you massaging, wench!? Your penance isn't up!"

Hermione shoved his feet off of her lap. "Alright, that's enough of that. I'm going to bed!" She stormed down the hall, the sound of his cackling chasing after her. 

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The days leading up to her date passed swiftly. It was an unmemorable blur of paperwork, meetings, press conferences, and paperwork. The media seemed to heed Mrs. Weasley's words, focusing on the importance of the memorial, and not Hermione's love life. 

Hermione heard a rap at the door. "I've got it!" She waved at George to stay seated where he was; on the couch, with his feet up, watching an American muggle show called 'Three's Company.' She walked over and opened it. A man in a black suit stood before her, holding a large white box with a silver bow. Hermione blinked. 

"Er... hello miss. I am Mr. Zabini's driver. I am here to deliver this, and to take you to meet him." He held out the box for her. 

Hermione's brow furrowed as she took the box. "I'm not supposed to meet him for another hour and a half." 

He nodded. "I will wait for you downstairs, Miss." 

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times, not quite sure how to process this. "Would you come in please?" 

The driver shook his head. "That won't be necessary, miss." 

"I insist." She stepped back and opened the door wider. 

The driver complied. Hermione carried the box into the kitchen, and opened it. Her frown increased. 

"What is it?" George asked from the couch. 

In response, Hermione held up what was clearly an expensive cocktail dress. It was silver, with sheer sleeves and pearl beading over every inch of the body. George guffawed and hopped off the couch to walk over to her. He snatched up another small package from the bottom of the box. It was a diamond necklace with matching diamond studs. 

"Wow, he doesn't know you at all, does he?" George snickered before returning to the couch. 

Hermione coolly folded the beautiful dress and placed it back into the box. She then turned to face the driver. "What is your name?" 

The driver's calm composure cracked for just a moment. He threw a panicked glance at George, who merely offered him a grin. "Trevor, miss." 

Hermione walked over to him and handed him the box. "Please return this to Mr. Zabini, and tell him that I can get myself to our date." 

Trevor reluctantly took the box, looking confused. "I'm sorry, miss. I need to escort you there. Mr. Zabini was quite clear." 

Hermione's eyes flashed. "I am capable of taking myself to the restaurant." 

Trevor stammered. "Miss, the location of the date is a surprise." 

George, who Hermione hadn't noticed had risen from the couch once more, interjected. "Don't have an aneurysm 'Mione. Trevor, take a breath." He grabbed Hermione's elbow and led her over to the kitchen. "Look 'Miss Independent' I get that you're feeling a little-" 

"Treated like property? Bought?" Hermione interrupted, furiously.

George rolled his eyes. "Oh shut it. You are way too smart to think that he actually means it like that. Zabini has way more money than he could spend in sixteen lifetimes. He's used to throwing it around, and probably just wanted to throw it at something he actually cares about." 

"I will not be dressed and fetched like a prized mare!" Hermione snapped back. 

"So stop throwing a tantrum like a child, and set some boundaries like an adult!" George scolded, thoroughly irritated. 

Hermione's eyes fluttered. Drat. He had done it again. George had this uncanny ability to make her feel foolish, which was positively aggravating. 

She took a deep breath, and walked back over to the nervous Chauffeur. "I'm sorry, Trevor. I'm not trying to put you in a position where you can't do your job. Please take the dress back to the car. I will not be needing it. I will change and meet you downstairs in, oh... forty-five minutes. Will that be enough time for us to get to our destination?" 

Trevor breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, miss. That will do." 

Hermione nodded, curtly. "You're welcome to stay up here with George, if you'd like."

Trevor shook his head. "No, miss. That wouldn't be proper."

Hermione shrugged. "Very well." 

Trevor exited, quietly closing up behind him. Hermione stood, glaring at the door. 

After a beat, she mumbled. "I hate how you do that."

When she turned around, George was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. "I shouldn't have belittled you. I'm sorry for that." He shifted a bit. "Hermione, you are amazing with research, study, and going out and making things happen for yourself. However, your interpersonal skills need quite a bit of work. You need to learn how to communicate healthily. You're not in school anymore. You're a grown woman. You need to learn to handle yourself in a fashion becoming of a woman in your position in life." 

Hermione checked her bruised ego and squared her shoulders. "You are absolutely correct. I needed that. Thank you for helping me grow."

George smiled, slowly. "You hate this."

"Unequivocally." She replied, and turned on her heel to go prepare for her date.


	17. Chapter 17

Hermione emerged from her room 40 minutes later. She had pulled her hair into an elegant french twist. Her makeup was natural; earth toned eyeshadow and a light blush. She was wearing a form fitting long-sleeve backless black dress with a high neckline that landed below her knees. She finished the look with ivory colored heels and pearl stud earrings. 

George paused the tele and sat up when she walked in. "Much more you. Come on then! Give us a twirl." He smiled approvingly. 

She obliged and spun around. "Not too provocative?" 

George stood and circled her, tapping his chin. He stopped in front of her and reached out to pull a few strands of hair so they framed her face. "Just provocative enough." He grinned and boinked the end of her nose with his finger. 

Hermione batted his hand away. "Alright, here goes." 

George had thrown himself back on the couch. "Be nice!" He called over his shoulder.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah." 

When she walked out to the street, she saw that Trevor waited patiently by the car, hands clasped in front of him. As she neared, he pulled the door open with an unexpected grace.

As they pulled away from her building, Hermione's curiosity mounted. "I didn't know Wizards had drivers. Although, I suppose it makes sense. The ministry has cars." 

Trevor glanced at her through the rear view mirror. "Yes, miss. It is not something that is accessible to most, but when you are as wealthy as Mr. Zabini..." 

Hermione nodded. "I suppose life really is your oyster when you have that much money." 

Trevor didn't respond. Hermione's eyes fell on the box. "How long have you worked for Blaise?" 

The Chauffeur shifted uncomfortably. "I've known him since he was a lad." 

Hermione ran her fingers along the door. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier. I just wasn't expecting you. Or such a lavish gift." 

"Might I speak freely, miss?" Trevor ventured, carefully.

Hermione let out a short laugh. "Please!" 

"Mr. Zabini doesn't mean any disrespect. He loves to surprise. He personally picked out your dress. He doesn't usually do that. He will normally send one of the female house elves to pick up something that Madam Malkin says is the most popular. But he has always had wealth, and he prefers to be generous with it," Trevor explained gently. 

Hermione smiled, obligingly. "I am not one who enjoys being doted on." 

Trevor quirked an eyebrow. "If you'll forgive me for speaking freely once more, miss. That will have to change if you and Mr. Zabini have any kind of future. He is a truly honorable man, but he will pamper you unapologetically." 

Hermione sighed, thoughtfully. "He is not... what I expected." She finally processed what she was looking at out the window and realized that they were driving away from the city and deep into the forest. "Erm... Trevor? I know you're technically not supposed to tell me where we are going, but can you at least assure me that you're not driving me somewhere to be murdered?" 

Trevor's head tilted back as he laughed. "No miss. You won't be murdered, but you may find my next request rather... concerning, if that is where your mind is at." He reached into the passenger seat and furnished a blind fold. 

Hermione hissed, incredulously. "You're JOKING." 

Trevor grimaced. "Please miss? He specifically requested this. It's only for a few moments. We are very nearly there." 

She growled, snatched the blindfold, and tied it on. As promised, the car rolled to a stop just moments later. She heard her door open. There was a pause. Suddenly, she felt strong arms around her, guiding her safely out of the car. 

"Did you not like the dress?" She heard Blaise's voice in her ear. 

Hermione clicked her tongue. "That is something we can discuss once this dratted blindfold is removed."

She felt, as well as heard, Blaise's chuckle, rumbling deep in his chest. "Language," He chided playfully. 

He led her forward gently. "Are you ready?" His words tickled her ear. She merely nodded. 

The blindfold fell off, and her mouth dropped open. They were standing in a clearing, atop a wooded hill that looked down upon London. There were candles floating everywhere. A small round table sat in the center of the clearing, covered with a simple white tablecloth. What seemed like all of Europe's red rose petals carpeted the entire area. A string quartet played itself in the corner, the instruments gleaming in the candle light. 

After a few moments had passed with her standing there agape, she finally managed to speak. "How are you EVER going to top this?"

Blaise threw his head back and for possibly the first time ever, she heard his genuine, big belly, unencumbered laugh. His eyes glimmered as he looked down at her. "You underestimate me, dove." 

He took her hand and guided her to the table. The candles parted as they walked through and then glided back into place as soon as they were out of the way. Blaise pulled out a chair for her. The moment they were seated, appetizers appeared: delicate bites of salmon and caviar; bacon wrapped prunes; and canapés of roasted bone marrow and duck confit on artisanal toasts.

Blaise began serving her. "So, tell me why you hated the dress. The jewelry was also, evidently, not to your liking." 

Hermione smiled, sardonically. "Blaise, they were stunning and you know it. It has nothing to do with whether or not I liked them." 

Blaise took a slow bite, a wry expression on his face. "Well, you're not wearing them, so what am I to make of that?" 

"I have my own clothes, Zabini," she stated through tight lips. 

Blaise continued to chew, a quizzical expression etched into his face. "You do, and you look dazzling." He continued to search her face for an answer.

Hermione was starting to feel like a brat. "Although I appreciate the sentiment, I don't need you to dress me. I don't want you to. Think of it this way: the way that you went through all of this work just to surprise me: I want to surprise YOU. I don't want you to expect what I may or may not look like. Also, and this may not be your intent, I don't want to feel like property."

Blaise sat back and looked at her unblinkingly. After a long pause, he smiled amused. "You are unlike any woman I have ever known." He reached behind him and pulled out the package with the jewelry. When and how he retrieved it, she had no clue. "I can accept you not wanting me to dress you. I admit, I can see how that might feel like I am treating you like property, or even like a child. However, I absolutely insist that you keep this gift." Hermione started to speak, but he cut her off. "I insist, Granger. I promise you this is not something I will ever budge on. I want to give you things. I want to pamper you, spoil you, overindulge you, in every way possible. You are the kind of woman who deserves it. On this, I will not waver." 

Hermione stared at him. "You are something else." 

Blaise just smiled and handed her the jewelry. 

Dinner passed quickly after that. The food was the most lavish and expensive that she had ever experienced: decadent lobster, perfect mushroom risotto, a sixty year old wine, and a chocolate desert topped with real gold. 

Hermione lounged back into her chair, smiling warmly at Blaise. "I could die after that meal and be happy." 

Blaise stood and took her hand hoisting her up. "Not yet. You're not allowed." 

He started swaying and leading her through a waltz. She relaxed into his frame, following his movements. The candles danced with them, as they floated out of the way and then back into place. Her face was full of wonder, and his with adoration. 

"We often forget, as accustomed to it as we are, just how wondrous magic really is." He said softly. 

She nodded against his chest. "This is reminiscent of my first time at Diagon Alley. My first time ever seeing any kind of magic. I'm in awe..." 

Blaise stopped dancing and pulled back from her. She blinked, puzzled. He reached forward caressing her face. "May I kiss you?" 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione practically floated into the flat. She was on cloud nine. George was still on the couch. He grinned when he saw her face. "That good, huh?" 

She tossed herself down beside him. "It was like it was plucked out of a muggle movie. Unreal." She turned her head to look at George. "He's amazing. He's so smart. We talked about everything under the sun; books, research, work, politics. He was SO charming! The perfect gentleman." Hermione sat up on her elbow to look at George. "He ASKED me if he could kiss me." 

George snickered. "Was he any good?"

Hermione giggled and stood up from the couch. "A girl never kisses and tells." She winked and walked around the couch to head to her room, but suddenly leaned over the back of the couch putting her face next to his, "But yes," she whispered. "AMAZING." She squealed and ran back to her room, giddily. 

George ran his hand over his face laughing at her absurdity.


	18. Chapter 18

Hermione woke abruptly in the middle of the night to a stag patronus at the foot of her bed.

Harry’s voice boomed, “ _Hermione, get to the Ministry. A pack of werewolves have savaged a small village of muggles near Southampton. We need all hands right now.”_

Hermione jumped to her feet, disoriented. Her light flicked on and she saw George standing in her doorway; topless, and in flannel pajama bottoms.

He nodded at her. “I heard. I’ll come with. Meet you by the fireplace in five.” He turned on his heel and hurried back to his room.

She swished some mouthwash as she ran to her closet to pull out jeans, a grey jumper, and her black trainers. She tossed her crazy mess of curls into a pile on top of her head and secured it with three large pins. She paused to spit into the sink and run some water, then walked briskly into the living room. George was already waiting for her.

He gestured calmly towards the fireplace. “After you.”

She was not prepared for the chaos when she stepped into the Ministry atrium. Wizards and Witches were running back and forth shouting as they jumped to and from the Floo network. It was utter madness.

George crashed into her, stepping out of the fireplace. "We’ve got to move, Granger.” He tugged at her sleeve and started across the room. She followed closely behind, looking around her. They made it to the elevators and started up. When they stepped out onto her floor, Harry was waiting impatiently by her office door, speaking with Blaise.

George walked over to Harry in long strides, Hermione having to jog just to keep up. “Harry mate, I’m here to help. Put me to use.”

Harry smiled appreciatively. “I’m glad you’re here, but I don’t know how much you will be allowed to do as a civilian.” He turned to Hermione. “I need you to come with me to the scene. You and I have been tasked with identifying the slaughtered muggles and rearranging their bodies so it looks like a muggle disaster, not supernatural.”

Hermione chewed on her lip as she jotted notes. She flipped through her calendar. “It’s not even the full moon.” She muttered to herself. “Have all of the werewolves responsible been apprehended?”

Blaise shook his head. “They are still in the process of doing so. They are being tracked through Rownhams Wood. It looks like they’re headed to the hills.” He looked to George. “Good boy Potter here might not be willing to bend the rules regarding civilian involvement, but we don’t have enough hands on deck, and I know you were trained by Mad-Eye Moody during the war. I’ll take you with me.”

George nodded grimly and rolled up his sleeves. “I’m a strong caster and I’m quick. How are we getting there?”

“Portkey. They already have several enchanted and ready on the seventh floor.” Blaise jerked his head and started walking. George began to follow.

Hermione started forward. “Wait!” They both stopped and turned to her impatiently. “Just be careful.” She said in a small voice.

George winked at her mischievously. “I’m insulted, Granger. I’m always careful.”

She rolled her eyes and looked at Blaise, who smiled gently and walked back to her. He took her elbow and pulled her into his body and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “I will if you will.”

She flushed a deep red. “I will.”

With that, Blaise and George turned and strode to the elevators with renewed urgency. She turned to Harry who was giving her a smug look.

“Oh hush.” She snapped and walked into her office. Harry just grinned.

Hermione gathered a few items for note taking and report making, and stuffed them into a small bag. “I’m assuming we will also be taking a portkey.”

Harry was adjusting his wand’s holster. “Yes.” She followed suit and grabbed hers out of the drawer. Once she was finished fastening it around her thigh, she nodded towards the door. They took off at a brisk pace. When they stepped out to the seventh floor, Harry led the way down the halls until they reached a large brass door. He pressed his hand into the center of the door for a few moments, until, with a loud groan, it opened. They stepped in to see a room filled with 40 podiums, most of which were empty; the few left had copper colored balls the size of a cantaloupe in the center. The pair walked past the empty podiums until they came to one with a portkey in the center.

Harry started counting down, “Three, two, one, now!”

Hermione shot her hand forward and placed her entire palm on the copper sphere. She felt a jerk in her navel as they took off. The first sound she heard as they floated towards the ground were screams. When they landed, she looked around in horror. There were hundreds of mangled bodies everywhere the eye could reach. Some Ministry Wizards were running around stunning muggles before they could get away, others were on brooms chasing down cars that were taking off in every direction.

Hermione’s eyes grew wider the more she took in the mayhem. She shook off the shock quickly and turned to Harry. “Do you know if they’ve put up wards to keep the muggles in the town yet?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t believe they have. The handling of this whole situation has been incredibly disorganized. The main priority was getting everyone down here as quickly as we could. Small teams were assembled with basic goals but no real procedure was set first.”

She pulled her wand out and pushed her sleeves up. “Come to the perimeter with me. Let’s get some wards set up first to help keep witnesses here. The dead can wait.”

They sprinted towards the edge of the small town, so focused on their task that they didn’t notice a set of intense yellow eyes, watching them from behind a nearby building.


	19. Chapter 19

Harry stood and watched as Hermione stood at the edge of the small town casting wards in a dome shape over the village. They could still hear the screams and shrieks of the panicked muggles. She had tried to show him how to do it but she was making up incantations on the fly and he couldn’t quite get the wand work down. They finally agreed it would go much faster if she just did it herself. Harry opted to stand guard. The spells mimicked the wards around Hogwarts: they would confuse and repel muggles back into the town.

Hermione flourished her wand arm in a vertical semi circle and then flicked her wrist out sharply. “A few more moments and then we can head back.” She called over her shoulder as a dark blue stream of magic coursed from her wand into the dome over the town. She felt the magic pull at her core and she opened herself up to it. Her arm rose up and in a final slashing moment a deep purple flew from her wand and into the dome. She stepped back and looked at her handiwork.

Harry nodded approvingly. “Impressive as always ‘Mione.”

Hermione grinned, warming at the compliment. “Let’s head back. It’s still bedlam out there.”

As if on cue, they heard a blood curdling scream. They looked at each other and sprinted back to the town. There were fifty or so werewolves slaughtering Ministry wizards and nearby muggles. Harry immediately jumped into the fray. Hermione cast her otter Patronus. “It was a trap! They led the Aurors and fighters away - the werewolves are still here! Come quickly!” She flourished her wand and sent the otter off to find Blaise and George.

Hermione stepped back to analyze the wolves. They were gruesome looking. Only a few were actually fully transformed, the rest were ghastly half mutated; Only claws and partially changed faces with fangs, monstrous half formed backs and legs. “They’ve found a way to force the change.” She whispered in abject horror. Several loud cracks resounded as Blaise’s task force apparated into the town, George among them. Hermione had never been much use at fighting, so instead of getting herself killed, she decided to start casting shield charms over the nearby muggles. As she scanned to find more muggles to protect, she noticed how poorly the Aurors were doing. Regardless of their deformed shapes, the werewolves were slaughtering the ministry wizards. The only wizards who were fairing even remotely well were Harry, Blaise, and George.

George suddenly jumped up, swinging his wand arm around his head and a silver thread emerged from his wand tip like a lasso. He rose four meters in the air and his voice thundered through the area in an unearthly timbre: “ _prensito lupinotuum.”_ The silver thread stretched out and split in a hundred different directions, the tendrils sought out and wrapped around every werewolf in the vicinity, and then further. George’s head tipped back as his magic pulsated through the area; he only breathed the word “ _venio,”_ but the power of it rattled her bones. About eighty wolves were dragged in towards him by the silver tendrils extending from George’s wand. Hermione stared at him in awe. She had never seen or heard of such magic. She met his eyes and saw that they were glowing a brilliant purple-white.

“Guys, you need to restrain them. When I release this spell, they’ll be free.” George said, tersely. Hermione didn’t think twice. She jumped up and started stunning and casting “ _incarcerous”_ on every werewolf in within sight. Harry and Blaise reacted almost as quickly.

Blaise roared at the surviving Aurors. “What the bloody hell are you waiting for!? An invitation!?”

Once everyone was working together, the wolves were all restrained within minutes. Hermione yelled out to George. “We finished! You can release them!” George started to float down to the ground as the silver tendrils began returning to his wand. When his feet touched the ground, he swayed, looking thoroughly spent. Hermione, Blaise, and Harry all approached him slowly.

Harry finally spoke. “What in Merlin’s saggy left t-“

“HARRY!” Hermione chided.

“Nah, I’m with him.” Blaise interjected. “That was bloody amazing mate! I’ve never seen anything like that.”

George shrugged, modestly. “I’m an inventor. You tend to stumble across new tricks when your entire career is based off of creating them.”

Hermione wasn’t sure anyone else had noticed the change in eye color when he had been casting, so she decided not to bring it up. She snapped into mom mode, instead. “You need to sit down and recover. You’re exhausted. Let us handle the rest. Blaise, can you organize a force to get these wolves to the ministry?” Blaise nodded and apparated on the spot. She grabbed Harry and marched him over to the nearest pile of bodies. “Let’s begin.”

Ten hours later, the four sat in Hermione’s office as she finished up the reports made in the field. George lounged on the floor in the corner behind her desk playing ‘exploding snap’ with Harry. Blaise sat in the chair facing Hermione and watched her work with a small smile playing on his mouth.

The Minister suddenly burst into her office with clenched fists and a furious look on his face, and the four froze. “I would like to know who authorized a civilian to enter the field.” He said in a dangerously low voice.

Blaise wasted no time. “I did, sir. It was an emergency and we were short staffed.”

The minister’s eyes flashed. “A word, Zabini.”

Hermione interrupted. “Sir, do you know exactly who he brought into the field?”

He leveled a calculating look at her. “The ‘who’ doesn’t matter. Under no circumstances-“

Harry stood from behind the desk and the Minister faltered. “Sir, I mean no disrespect. I understand the concern and I understand why the rules in place are there but, Zabini didn’t bring any old civilian into the field. He brought George Weasley. A war hero”

George didn’t even bother standing. So all the Minister heard was his voice float up from behind Hermione’s desk. “Stop it, Harry. You’re making me blush.”

The Minister paused, stunned momentarily. “Be that as it may, Zabini - you cannot possibly have known that Mr. Weasley would handle the situation the way he did, and more importantly, not get himself killed. He’s never attended the Auror academy. We don’t know his capabilities.”

Blaise folded his arms over his chest. “With all due respect _sir,_ George Weasley is one of the last people alive to be hand picked and trained by some of the best Aurors the wizarding world has ever seen. He was personally taught and trained by Mad-eye Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, and Albus Dumbledore, while serving in the Order of the Phoenix. As far as the Auror Academy goes, the incompetent imbeciles that are being churned out these days are next to completely useless. It is quite possible that every last one of us would have died today, were it not for George Weasley.”

The Minister took in a deep breath and looked at Blaise intently. Blaise did not drop his gaze. “Alright Blaise, I understand why you made the judgement call you did. Don’t make it a habit… and I will be needing your memories, to corroborate your story.”

Blaise nodded sharply and the Minister exited, less agitated. George started giggling. “Drama, drama.”


	20. Chapter 20

After a few hours, Harry stood and stretched. “Well, it appears that there will be no further issues today. Let’s head home. We all look awful.”

Hermione nodded, distracted. “One more paragraph, and I’ll be done with this final report. Harry, go home to your wife. Blaise, please go home and rest. You can’t stay here forever. George…” She looked behind her and saw George asleep on the ground. “I’ll collect George when I’m done,” She chuckled.

Harry patted Blaise firmly on the shoulder before leaving.

Blaise rose, reluctantly. He crossed behind the desk and leaned over Hermione’s right shoulder. “We never did schedule our next date.”

She blushed, very aware of how close he was to her. “Well, I’m pretty sure that I’m going to sleep for the 14 hours following my getting home. But, after that?” She grinned, slyly. “The Minister gave us the rest of the week off, so that gives us extra time…”

Blaise brought his face right in front of hers, nearly touching. “I’ll come collect you on Saturday morning then.”

“Saturday afternoon.” Hermione corrected. “I have a standing appointment on Saturday mornings.”

Blaise grumbled. “Who do I need to duel for the rights to your Saturday mornings?”

Hermione giggled, playfully. “Harry and Ron.”

Blaise threw his hands up in defeat. “Alright, I’ll not interrupt the Golden Trio’s weekly breakfast then.”

“Hurry up and kiss her already. You’re making me nauseous. You guys don’t even flirt well.” George’s groggy voice drifted up from the corner.

Blaise grinned. “As you wish, good sir.” He closed the distance and pressed his lips to Hermione’s. She pulled away, quickly looking towards George to show Blaise she was embarrassed at the public display. He nodded, respecting her boundaries. He swept his thumb across her cheek and kissed her forehead. “Saturday afternoon, then.”

Hermione watched him leave, butterflies dancing in her stomach. George stood up stiffly and brushed off his pants. He paused as he stared at her. “Well, if you’re done drooling after the bloke, let’s be off.”

She balled up some paper and chucked it at him. “Let me be! I’ll drool over him if I like.”

George grinned. “Careful, Granger. You’re sounding awfully smitten.”

Hermione scowled. She hated the idea of being the typically swooning female ninny-like archetype. George had poked at her in that specific fashion entirely on purpose. She decided to play it off. “Well, he is certainly worth being smitten over. Far more than anyone I know.”

A hurt look flashed briefly across George’s face. He threw an arm across his forehead and tossed himself into the closest armchair. “Granger! You wound me!”

Hermione snatched her hand bag as she rose. “Play stupid games…” She tossed her bag over her shoulder and crossed to the door, wrenching it open with dramatic flair. “Weren’t you in quite the hurry to leave?”

George peeked out at her from under his forearm. “Well yes, but now I’m wallowing.”

Hermione rolled her entire head in exasperation. “I’m leaving you here,” she said, before walking briskly out of her office.

It only took George a few strides before he was loping alongside her. “Alright, alright. Tsk. Tsk. So impatient.”

It took everything in Hermione’s self control to not jinx him on the spot.

Three ministry officials stood around a low, wide Pensieve, as a fourth poured a memory in. The first was a skinny, tall, balding, older fellow with a pinched face. The second was far more stout, shorter, redfaced, and wearing a pointed hat. The third was a middle aged man with a long beard, reasonably fit, wearing a perpetually serious expression. The last was a younger man, a mess of curls atop his head, bright blue eyes, and an eager expression.

“Did you hear what the Auror’s were saying?” The youngest said, enthusiastically. “Brilliant magic! Brand new some are saying!”

“Stop behaving as though you are trading school gossip,” the man with the pinched face, scolded.

“Either way, we are about to find out.” The bearded man, retorted.

The stout man wrung his hands looking about anxiously. “W-w-well, if what they are saying is true, we are dealing with uncharted magic. Uncharted territory!”

The bearded man leveled a hard look at him. “Or very old magic.” He immediately stepped into the Pensieve.

The four landed on the ground and followed Blaise and George’s earlier selves as they dashed through the forest.

George stopped, abruptly. “I found tracks! About twenty! They’re headed east!” He shouted, waving Blaise over. Blaise’s eyes followed the clear set of werewolf tracks. His eyes then trailed towards another set of human tracks heading in the exact opposite direction. George followed Blaise’s gaze. “Maybe they were confunded?” He offered, hopefully.

Blaise shook his head, frustrated. “They’re just a bunch of idiots.”

George ran his hand through his hair, bashfully. “I’m sure they’re not that bad.”

Blaise snapped his eyes up to George and said seriously. “Nah mate, they’re worse.”

The younger ministry official scoffed. “Our Auror’s aren’t idiots! They have to graduate from the academy!” He said fervently, as though that meant something.

The bearded man looked at him sternly. “Zabini has a point. Every year our Auror graduates are more worthless than the last. All of our strong teachers died in the war.”

The four glided across the floor, following Zabini’s memory. Zabini and George were sprinting, following the lost Aurors. They heard shouting and knew they were heading into trouble. They whipped out their wands as they ran, and as they entered a large clearing, they saw twenty or so wolves ravaging the thirty aurors that were left alive. There were roughly forty bodies of dead Aurors strewn across the forest floor. A nearby Auror shot out a poorly aimed and overall weak stun that bounced off of a werewolf’s hip. He was promptly mauled

The bearded official ran his hand over his face and gestured pointedly at the screaming Auror who was having his face ripped off. “Tell me again, how Aurors aren’t idiots? Absolutely pitiful.”

George had already started racing around the perimeter. Every spell he shot found its mark. Within thirty seconds, four wolves had been knocked down with a full body bind, three had been stunned, and six were incapacitated with blasting curse that had rendered them unconscious.

The bearded official watched him with warm approval. “Now THAT is some strong wizarding.”

Zabini had at this point stunned two other wolves. They had seemed to realize how outmatched they were, and retreated into the forest. George lost no time, rushing around to check wounds, and making sure nobody had been bitten. Once he confirmed that no one alive would turn, he started casting healing spells.

Zabini then took charge. “As soon as you are finished getting your basic first aid and stopping any bleeders, we need to follow the rest. We must stop them bef-“ He was interrupted as an otter patronus bounded into the clearing. George froze. “That’s Hermione’s”

_“It was a trap! They led the Aurors and fighters away - the werewolves are still here! Come quickly!”_ Hermione’s voice came through with poorly concealed panic.

George’s face lost all color. He stood and turned on his heel, apparating back to the town.

“LET’S GO! MOVE, YOU IMBECILES!” Blaise roared at the Aurors, before apparating after George.

Blaise landed in the clearing to find a massacre. The wolves were killing everyone in sight. Harry was the most competent fighter present, stunning and blasting as many wolves as he could. All of the remaining ministry fighters were close to useless. Blaise jumped right in, casting a _confringo,_ and blasting three wolves away from the bodies they were maiming. His eyes searched for a certain curly headed brunette. He hit two more wolves with a _stupefy_ and continued to look for her as he ran through the melee, praying that she was not among the hundreds of bodies laying on the ground. He finally caught sight of Hermione casting _protego_ on everyone she could see who needed the help; muggles and ministry officials alike. He saw a wolf creep out from behind a coffee shop, right behind Hermione. It’s eyes locked on her back, stalking her. She didn’t see it. Blaise started running towards her. He wasn’t going to make it in time. Suddenly he heard George’s voice thundering through the area. “ _Prensito lupinotuum.”_ George’s eyes were on the wolf behind Hermione as silver tendrils shot from his wand reaching towards every wolf in sight.

“I-i-is that a known spell?” The young official asked, meekly.

The pinched faced wizard had a hardened expression. “No. It is not.”

The stout man began wringing his hands again. “I say. What kind of magic is that?”

George had already cast the second part of his spell, which began pulling the wolves toward him.

The pinched faced official had reached into his breast pocket and started jotting down notes. “We are going to have to find out.”

The bearded man had been circling George’s airborne figure. “Incredible,” he mumbled, eyes cast upwards upon the younger man. “This is simply amazing.”

Suddenly, the four were pulled from the memory. The pinched face official stuffed his notepad back into his jacket. “Well, I think we’ve seen quite enough. We have some research to do.”

The bearded man stared down into the pensieve, looking intently at George’s glowing eyes. “We do, indeed.”


	21. Chapter 21

Hermione sat at a quaint muggle diner, waiting for Harry and Ron. Between the two of them, their brunch always started closer to 11:00am than 10:30am. She didn’t mind though. It gave her time to peruse the menu, and read whatever novel she brought along that day. When she had left the flat, George was still snoring loudly from his room. Whatever spell he had cast really sucked the life out of him. She still needed to ask him about his eyes.

Harry announced his arrival by throwing his coat down into the booth. “If this bloody remodel isn’t done soon, I’m going to off myself.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “SO dramatic, Harry.”

Harry grinned, boyishly. “Well I can’t let that tosser have all of the fun.” He jerked his head towards the entrance where Ron had just walked in.

Ron approached the table, grumbling. “Were you lot talking about me?”

“Talking… Complaining…” Hermione lifted her hands one by one, imitating a scale.

Harry’s laughter was teasing. “We were discussing your never ending dramatics at any inconvenience.”

Ron glared at them both. “I don’t like either of you.”

“Alright, alright. We’re done teasing you. ‘Mione’s turn,” Harry said as he rolled his head towards Hermione.” So, you and Blaise? Were you ever going to tell us about that, or were we just going to have to do the math when we caught you snogging?” Harry jeered.

Ron’s jaw dropped. “What!? Why am I always the last to know anything!?” His face reflected genuine shock.

“Because you don’t work with us. And I was going to tell you, together, today. Harry just happened to see it first.” Hermione explained, irritated.

“See what? What’d you see?” Ron asked, nosily, looking to Harry for answers.

“It really wasn’t much; a touch here, a peck on the forehead there. Mostly just longing gazes from the distance, at our adorable little brunette here.” Harry answered, sportively.

Hermione’s head hit the table as Ron wiggled his eyebrows and said. “Oooh, frisky.”

Hermione returned home that afternoon to find a stunning floral arrangement of red roses and baby’s breath waiting for her on the kitchen island. George was sitting at the table, eating a bowl of some sort of soup he had made for himself.

“Welcome back. How was brunch?” He asked, warmly.

She walked over to the flowers, and grabbed the card rather unceremoniously.

“Can’t wait to see you. I’ll be by around 4. – Blaise.” She smiled as she put it down, admiring the flowers for the first time.

“They teased me mercilessly about Blaise, of course,” she groaned at the air.

George laughed. “As you see, those came for you while you were gone.”

She nodded, slowly, an indiscernible look on her face. George walked over and sat on the stool nearest her. “What is it?”

She chewed her lip before answering. “I’ve never been sent flowers before.” She admitted, shyly.

George studied her face curiously, his elbow on the countertop, chin in palm. “Well, I’m glad that’s changing now.”

She shrugged awkwardly. “I’d better go get ready. It’s already half past three. Blaise will be here soon.”

Hermione hurried off to her room, George’s eyes fixed on her back. She realized as she stood in front of her closet that she had no idea whether this would be a formal date, or a more casual one. After a few minutes, she decided to go with a dark green, slouchy, off the shoulder sweater, high waisted black jeans, and ankle high black leather boots. She added a small ruby pendant necklace with a thin gold chain. She teased her wild curls with some mousse, and applied some mascara.

Hermione re-entered the living room at five til four. George appraised her with an approving smile. “Dressy casual? So I take it you don’t know whether this is a fancy dinner or a casual hang out.”

She chuckled. “Am I that transparent?”

George grinned. “At least to me.”

She opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. When she opened it, she found Blaise lounging against the doorframe. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a beige V-neck sweater. A smile grew on Blaise’s face as he looked over her. “I have to say Granger, you look well in my house colors.”

Hermione blushed and tapped her necklace. “Still a Gryffindor at heart though. I had to represent somehow.”

“That’s right sister!” George’s fist shot up from behind the couch, index finger pointed to the ceiling.

Blaise and Hermione laughed. She nodded sideways, towards the roses on the kitchen island. “Thank you for those. They are so beautiful.” Blaise kissed her cheek in response. “Let me grab my purse, and we can be off,” she continued. “No Trevor today?”

Blaise remained in his spot against the door frame. “He’s waiting downstairs.”

Hermione hummed as she snagged her purse from the coat rack. “But of course. How silly of me.”

Blaise quirked an eyebrow. “Do you not like the chauffeur?”

She walked over to him. “Not at all! I think Trevor is lovely. I just don’t find him necessary. After all, we can apparate.”

Blaise stood up right and offered his elbow. “But what’s the fun in that?”

“Hey Zabini! When you’re done wiping your arse with all of your excess money, care to send any to some of us less fortunate folk?” George called.

“You’re one to talk, Weasley. With that joke shop of yours, I know you have a small fortune.” Blaise shot back.

“Yes, yes but I want it to be a REAL fortune. My wealth pales in comparison to yours Zabini, and I don’t like being outdone.” George whined.

“The two of you are absurd. We’re leaving. I’ll see you later, George.” Hermione said, interrupting the banter.

“I’ll be here.” George wailed, “Crying into a bottle of butter beer-”

She shut the door on him, while she and Blaise shook with laugher. “He’s quite a character, isn’t he?” Blaise remarked.

Hermione lifted a shoulder to her ear. “Always has been. Although a little less with the constant jokes, since Fred died.”

Blaise nodded. “I can only imagine. I remember the ruckus they used to cause at school. All of the teachers hated them, and all of the students wanted to be them.“

He opened the building door for her. Hermione walked down the stairs and out to the street, where Trevor and the car waited. “I don’t think the teachers actually hated them – Hello Trevor – frustrated with them, absolutely. But I think the teachers admired their ingenuity.” She slid into the car.

Blaise followed, resting his hand on her knee. “I would be lying if I denied ever using their products during school years.”

Hermione looked at him, incredulously. “You? Really?”

Blaise chortled as the car pulled out. “I feel like I’m ruining your good opinion of me. Yes, Granger. I partook in the skiving snackboxes a time or two. Not regularly, I assure you. But enough to be able to sneak off for some mischief.”

She sat back, shaking her head. “What kind of mischief?” She pressed, curiously.

Blaise ran his hand over his face, chuckling. “You’re going to think less of me, but I won’t lie to you; knicking snacks from the kitchen, unsanctioned Hogsmeade visits, a bit of snogging here and there. “

“With who?” Hermione wiggled her eyebrows, playfully. “Do I know them? Were they in our year? Wait! Let me guess. Was it Millicent Bulstrode?”

Blaise guffawed. “Alright enough with the interrogation. My turn. Is it true that you and Krum were playing ‘chase the dragon’ fourth year?”

Hermione physically recoiled. “Ew! Is that what people said? Honestly! We kissed once, but really, we were just friends. I wanted to know everything about international wizarding schools and what they were like! I tried to make friends with some of the Beauxbatons girls, but they were rather stuck up.”

Blaise smirked. “Not with me, they weren’t.”

Hermione glared. “Just how many girls did you shag during school?”

Blaise wiggled his finger. “Don’t ask things you’re not ready for the answer to. Also, we’re here.”

He stepped out of the car before the wheels had even come to a full stop, and then turned to help her out just as they did. “Come along, dove.”

They were at a lake with a long dock. Waiting at the end of the dock was a small table, not unlike their first date, with food and champagne already out.

Blaise took her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers as they walked. “Are we ever going to have a normal date? At a restaurant? Not that this isn’t wonderful,” she queried.

“If you’d like. I figured however, with the press, that you would prefer more privacy,” Blaise answered, as he withdrew his hand from hers to pull out her chair.

“I hadn’t even thought of that. You’re right. This is better.” She smiled.

The night passed just as quickly as their first date. Hermione had never felt so drawn to a person, but Blaise was truly magnetic. With every brilliant smile, gentlemanly habit, and attentive conversation, he pulled her in just a little more. She wondered, as they rode back to her flat in silence, her head resting on his shoulder, if this is what falling in love was really about. She realized now, that she never really had experienced it. This is what people write songs, books, and moving pictures about. She snuggled in deeper. Blaise hummed and kissed her gently on the head. She had never felt more desirable or worthy than this man made her feel.

“May I walk you in?” Blaise asked her softly as they arrived. She nodded.

When they arrived at her door, she mustered up her courage, and rather shyly, said: “I’m not ready for tonight to end yet. Will you come in for some tea?”

Blaise smiled gently. “I’d love to.”

Hermione rose on her toes and kissed him deeply before opening the door. She was not expecting to find not only George, but Harry, Ginny, Ron, Molly, Arthur, Bill, Percy, and Charlie sitting in her living room. She stood in her doorway mouth agape. “What-“

George held out a scroll. “I’ve been summoned to appear before Wizengamot.”


	22. Chapter 22

Everyone dispersed after about an hour. The scroll was rather vague about what George was being summoned for. Mr. Weasley prudently suggested that everyone go home, rest, and it could be discussed when everyone was more clearheaded at brunch tomorrow. Blaise didn’t stay much longer after everyone else left; he could sense Hermione’s desire to talk to George alone. She invited him to come with her to Sunday brunch at the Weasley’s, and he kissed her in reply before leaving. George was too stressed out to even tease. Hermione made some tea and sat next to him on the couch.

“George, I need to tell you something. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this, but I couldn’t seem to find the right moment to,” she said fervently as she handed him a cuppa. “When you were casting those spells… your eyes… they were glowing… purple.”

George gave her a shocked look. “They were?”

She nodded, grimly. “I wish we had a Pensieve so I could show you what it looked like from my perspective. It was beautiful, powerful. Where did those spells come from?”

George paused to drink and then began slowly. “Fred and I had been inventing spells and casting since childhood. Prior to Hogwarts I mean. We would just will things to happen. Sometimes words would just come to us, and we knew what we wanted. The words would just shape our desire.”

Hermione looked at him, questioningly. “You guys were casting prior to Hogwarts? Did you knick your parents wands or…”

George shook his head. “No. Wandless. And nonverbal.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped. “How is that possible? That is some really difficult magic that most adults struggle with.. how could you… at eight..?” George raised an eyebrow at her. “Seven?” George smirked. “ SIX??”

He chuckled, halfheartedly. “We discovered that bit of fun shortly after our fifth birthday.”

Hermione couldn’t hardly wrap her mind around the idea. “Did you ever tell anyone? Is that how you guys were able to do your inventions?”

George laughed. “I wish! No, we made a pact to always keep the ability a secret between us. As for our inventions, we had to use good old fashioned charms and potions. This ability is tied deeply to need and emotion. As much as we desperately desired to start our own business, it wasn’t a ‘need’ per se. We used to call it our ‘twin power.’ When we were young, we were needy and emotional far more often, and therefore that kind of casting was far more frequent. It became less and less easy to call on as we became older and had a stronger understanding of the difference between ‘I want’ and ‘I need.’”

Hermione nodded slowly, as she processed. “Do you think this Wizengamot summons has to do with your casting?”

George shrugged. “It could be, but I doubt it. Probably as simple as someone abusing a Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes invention.”

Hermione stood and stuck her hand out for George’s empty mug. “Let’s go to sleep. We can brainstorm with the family tomorrow.” George couldn’t disagree.   
  


They arrived at the Burrow early the next day. George went directly to the kitchen to console Mrs. Weasley, who was a right mess. She had stayed up all night and baked enough sweets to feed most of London. Ginny arrived with Bill and Charlie.

“Where’s Harry?” Mrs. Weasley asked, peering around Ginny as though she had stuffed him in her back pocket.

“He got called into the ministry late last night. Some sort of emergency.” Ginny responded. “I’m surprised you’re here, ‘Mione.”

Hermione looked surprised. “I didn’t hear anything. We can ask Blaise when he gets here.”

There was a polite rap at the front door. “That might be him now.” Hermione began to stride towards the front door.

“Oh nonsense, dear. Blaise knows he can just come right in. That must be Draco.” Before Mrs. Weasley could answer the door, it swung open to reveal a bashful looking Draco and an unapologetic Ron.

“Oi! Look who I found standing outside like a schmuck. This git actually knocked on the door,” Ron announced as he barged in.

“Ron! Did I teach you no manners at all?” Mrs. Weasley tittered as she ushered Draco in.

“Not really.” Ron muttered. Mrs. Weasley rounded on him, but George stepped in to rescue his hapless brother. “Oh, come on mum. You know Ronniekins has always been downright unteachable.”

Ron snatched a pastry off of the table and chucked it at George’s head. George barely dodged it, and it smacked Ginny right in the back of the head, getting custard all over her hair.

The fury on her face rivaled her mother’s temper. “RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, I WILL-“ She was unable to finish because another pastry hit her square in the face.

Ron taunted her from across the room. “Don’t forget. YOU’RE the younger sister. Don’t be gettin’ airs with me.”

She lurched at him, but Bill snaked his arm around her waist. “We’ll get him later, sis. Mum’s about to combust.”

Mrs. Weasley was blushing with poorly concealed rage. “Oh, Draco. You must think us completely uncivilized.” She practically snarled at her children.

Draco smiled, warmly. “I never had siblings. I think this is amazing,” he reassured her.

“Well, not to make everything about me, but I think everything should be about me right now, given that I have to appear before the Wizengamot on Tuesday,” George declared loudly in an overly bratty tone.

Mrs. Weasley immediately became distressed with renewed vigor, and pulled out a new glass bowl to start baking something new. Mr. Weasley finally put down his newspaper and joined them in the kitchen. “Well son, do you have any idea what this could be about?”

Hermione and George nodded at one another. “Well, we have some ideas but-“

They were interrupted by loud pounding on the front door. They heard some scuffling and then Harry’s voice. “Damnit! I told you to let me handle it!”

Harry entered and quickly shut the door behind him. He quickly cast a _muffliato_ spell over the door to give them privacy. “They’re here to arrest you, George. The werewolves broke out somehow last night and they’re trying to pin it on you!”


	23. Chapter 23

Everyone blinked for a moment, processing what Harry said. Chaos ensued shortly after; Mrs. Weasley burst into sobs hiding her face in her husband’s chest, Charlie and Ginny were screaming furiously, and Bill and Ron immediately began making plans to attack the Aurors outside. Harry shouted over them. “ENOUGH! We don’t have much time before they come barging in here. George, go without a fuss. If you struggle, then it will only make matters worse.”

“To hell with that!” Roared Charlie, incensed. “I will not sit here and watch my little brother get carted off for something he had nothing to do with! Why the bloody hell are they trying to pin this on him?”

Bill gently placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Charlie, I don’t like it either but Harry’s right. We need to let them take George. If we put up a fight here, it only makes George’s case worse, and it will get us into a world of trouble as well.”

Harry gave Bill a grateful smile. “We will spend every waking moment finding a way to disprove this, but until that point it will help us if George complies. There is a ministry official named Hunter Wilson. I’ve never liked him. He’s always reminded me a bit of Pettigrew, but he’s the one laying the allegations against George.”

“Is he also responsible for George’s summons?” Draco chimed in.

Harry shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of, but I’ll find out more. George, we will fight this, but right now I need you to go with them peacefully. You can surrender your wand to me. I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

George set his jaw and nodded. In vain, trying to hide his fear and unease. Hermione crossed over to him and threw her arms around his middle. “Like Harry said, we WILL fight this. I will do whatever it takes to gather whatever evidence necessary to make absolute certain that you get out of this. I promise.”

George simply beamed down at her. “Then, what have I to fear?”

Mrs. Weasley let out another hopeless sob as Mr. Weasley rubbed her back in soothing circles. Ginny and Ron had been standing by, silently fuming. Draco looked as though he were calculating the situation. Charlie was clenching and unclenching his fists as Bill whispered urgently in his ear.

“It’ll be alright, you lot. But just know if I rot in Azkaban for the rest of my life, I’ll never forgive you.” George said, cheerily. With that, he nodded to Harry, handed over his wand, and exited the Burrow.

Not two minutes after, Blaise came running in. “What in merlin… What happened!?”

The day of the Wizengamot trial arrived too quickly. Hermione, Harry, Draco, and Blaise all worked tirelessly to gather evidence that George was not responsible for the werewolf breakout. Harry had assured them that the case against George was thin. Regardless, Hermione – the queen of over-preparedness – had made certain to have as much evidence as possible to prove he had nothing to do with it.

The whole family sat in the dungeon, awaiting the trial’s beginning. There was a sea of plum robes and a low hum of voices as the Wizengamot conversed amongst themselves. Draco did not come, he knew well his presence would only add to the hostility. Hermione fidgeted in her seat, fingering her large folder of evidence; floo network history, her memory of George going to bed and waking up with him still asleep in his room, registered times over the last month of when he had been working and when he had been home with witnesses.

The Minister of Magic suddenly stood and waved his wand and the room fell silent. George appeared in the middle of the dungeon inside a cage. Mrs. Weasley choked back a whimper at the sight of her son. George was laying in the middle of the cage on his back with his feet up against the side, his hands behind his head.

The Minister spoke, “Mr. Weasley, could you please sit up? Your trial has commenced.”

George did not move. “Absolutely not, sir. I refuse to believe this is real.”

There was a collective gasp followed by immediate murmurs amongst the witches and wizards in plum. Hermione fought the urge to drop her head into her hands. They were doomed.

The Minister however seemed amused. “Be that as it may. Your trial has commenced, and you shall be facing your accuser.”

That roused George. He slowly sat up and crossed his legs. “Before that, may I ask a question?”

The Minister nodded. “Certainly.”

George cocked his head to one side. “What is the purpose of this cage? Other than to humiliate me. Not that it’s working. I have complied with the ministry at every turn, even though the reason for my arrest is absolutely absurd.”

The Minister once again seemed amused. “Very well, Mr. Weasley. You have not done anything to warrant this cage.” He waved his wand and the cage disappeared and George was seated in an iron chair.

George blinked and looked around. “Thank you, sir.”

The Minister did not respond, but instead turned to a stout, nervous looking man beside him. “Mr. Wilson. Please begin.”

Mr. Wilson’s hands began to shake as George’s eyes settled on him. Mr. Wilson flicked his wand and projected a memory out into the room. It was Zabini’s memory of George on the day of the werewolf attack, capturing all of the wolves. Mr. Wilson stood once the memory was over. “Mr. Weasley. Are you, or are you not a creature?”

George burst out laughing. “Well, that depends on who you ask. A textbook? or ex-girlfriends-“

“MR. WEASLEY.” Mr. Wilson interrupted looking quite red. “Are you admitting to being a creature?”

George rolled his eyes. “Of course not! What kind of creature are you accusing me of being?”

Mr. Wilson turned towards the Wizengamot. “As you can see here, Mr. Weasley, with little difficulty was able to control and bring the wolves to submission, and if you paid close attention, you would have noticed that his eyes were glowing. I believe that this evidence proves that Mr. Weasley is an unregistered creature, and he aided the wolves in their escape.”

George lazily raised his hand, like a petulant school boy. “I’m sorry. So first I captured them, for the ministry mind you, and then I helped them get out? What the bloody hell kind of waste of time would that be?”

Hermione shot George an exasperated look. He shrugged at her. Mr. Wilson merely sputtered.

A familiar voice came from the crowd of plum robes. “Excuse me, Mr. Wilson but Mr. Weasley makes an excellent point.” Hermione searched for the voice and when she found the source, her entire body warmed. She was looking at none other than Minerva Mcgonagall.

Mr. Wilson was practically beside himself. “He used unknown magic! His eyes were glowing!”

Minerva fixed him with a beady stare. “And what, pray tell, does that have to do with him aiding in the werewolves escape?”

Mr. Wilson faltered. “Well… he… but… He could be a werewolf!”

“Well, that is merely speculation. I, personally, have never heard of a wolf who’s eyes glowed purple. Do you have any proof to back up your claim?” Minerva looked down at Mr. Wilson.

He stuttered. “He… but the memory!”

Minerva sat back in her chair. “As far as I’m concerned, all that memory proved was that Mr. Weasley is a skilled wizard who helped apprehend a band of dangerous werewolves. I believe we can call for a vote and not continue to waste everyone’s precious time.”

Mr. Wilson just stood with his mouth agape.

Minerva took advantage of his shock and stood. “All in favor of acquittal?” Every hand rose. “Well there you have it. Good day.”

And the room was a flutter with the Wizengamot standing to exit. Hermione leapt down from the stands and threw her arms around George. “We didn’t even need this!” She said, waving the folder. “I didn’t know Mcgonagall had joined the Wizengamot.”

Minerva’s voice responded from behind her. “It was a very recent development. Mr. Weasley, you should watch your cheek.”

George grinned. “But it’s your favorite thing about me!”

Minerva shook her head and laughed. “Well, until next time. Do try to stay out of trouble Mr. Weasley.”

The rest of the Weasley clan descended. Mrs. Weasley blubbered as she lay kisses all over George.

“Ach. Mum!” George was very vocal about his displeasure, but he eventually gave in and patted his mother warmly on the back.

“So… Butterbeers?” Ron offered.

“Oh Merlin yes! So many Butterbeers!” Mr. Weasley replied. Everyone fell silent and stared at him, shocked. “What!” He continued. “I can have fun too and this was all rather stressful.”

The group laughed merrily as Mr. Weasley ushered them out of the dungeons.

The following day, Hermione was sitting in her office with a stack of books nearly as high as she was tall. She was trying to research Werewolf lore. She couldn’t fathom how it were possible for the wolves to be changed, some half changed, without the full moon. She was discovering through her reading, that the wizarding world knew precious little about werewolves and that they hadn’t put in much of an effort to remedy that. She jumped as a door slammed. Blaise stalked into the room moments later, looking furious. Hermione blinked at him, not sure what to say, and having never seen him in a temper.

“I just quit”


	24. Chapter 24

Wilson paced furiously in front of the other three officials, as they sat in the Ministry Library, pouring over ancient texts. His hands fidgeted behind his back, telltale signs of the agitation and nerves he was trying so desperately to hide.“You didn’t even help me one jot! We agreed that Weasley needed to be put away for the safety of the public!”

The bearded wizard glared at Wilson for a moment. “We don’t know WHAT he is. That’s the problem. He could be a danger, yes. He could also be entirely innocuous.” He gestured to the variety of open books, scrolls, and notes they had taken thus far, before pulling off his rectangular reading monocle.“ The problem is that we are unsure. We KNOW that Werewolves are dangerous, and that they need to be kept far away from good and normal people. We know that they have no control over themselves once turned, and are in essence, bound to violence. We KNOW that goblins, although the right pains in the arse that they are, pose no particular threat. They are allowed to exist among us with little to no difficulty because we understand that they are not a menace to society, and that if necessary, we can use our far superior magic to put them down. We KNOW that centaurs have no ability to use magic, and are only even possibly dangerous within the range of their arrows. We KNOW that we have successfully hunted and banished all giants to the far reaches of the mountains, and the remaining few dare not come down to face us again. We KNOW that house elves are not a threat at all, and are in fact bound to our will. These are things that we KNOW and understand, and have certainties in place to protect the wizarding world. We DO NOT KNOW what George Weasley is, or IF he is a danger to us. THAT is the problem.”

  
Unchallenged, he continued. “This situation needed to be handled with tact - with facts. You have mishandled this in the worst way possible, and now if we are to successfully detain him, we will have a much harder time of it. You were impatient, impertinent, and did not wait until we had the proper proof.” With that, he replaced his monocle and renewed his reading, a firm frown plastered across his face.

Moments later, Wilson sputtered out a response, incensed. “B-b-but! You didn’t even vote to incarcerate him! You didn’t even give me THAT much!”

The wizard with the pinched face rose, leaning forward on stiffened arms. “And make fools of the rest of us as well? Had we done that, it only would have hurt our own credibility, and made accomplishing our goal nigh impossible. Did you honestly believe he was a werewolf?” He scoffed, derisively.

Wilson glared. “Of course not! But, but - I was trying to get him off the streets! For the safety of the people! And now, Blaise Zabini, of all people, is trying to get me fired!”

The wizard with the pinched face snarled. “You are a joke. We three have discussed your liability, and we believe that you should be a part of this delegation no longer.”

Wilson wrung his hands, his back and forth paces now much shorter. “We went to school together, graduated together, and started working at the ministry together. For the length of our entire careers, I have supported you without question. I have never been consulted, never allowed to make any decisions, never treated with any respect. You just demand things of me!” He pointed at the young wizard, (who had been doing his best to stay out of all this) accusingly and his voice became shrill. “You listen to him more than you’ve ever listened to me, and he just got here!”

“That,” the pinched face man replied coldly, “is because he is actually of use.”

Wilson’s pacing stopped instantly, as if he’d been hexed, and looked back and forth between them all with hurt and betrayal written upon his face. The next emotion that came was defeat, which only lasted but a moment. It was quickly followed by fury. He clenched his jaw and stormed out.

The bearded wizard didn’t even look up from his work. “Good riddance.”

The young wizard finally spoke. “Gents.” He looked up smiling, eyes glittering. “I think I’ve got something.”

Hermione opened and closed her mouth wordlessly, unsure of what to say.

“I demanded that Wilson be fired. That entire sham trial, and George’s arrest, was a huge waste of time and resources. Time and Resources that should have been spent trying to understand how the wolves escaped in the first place and chasing them down. And all because that bloated idiot is afraid of what he can’t understand. We weren’t even able to interrogate them about the attack before they got out. I joined the ministry in the hopes of inciting real change, but this place is operated by the most stupid, bureaucratic, ineffectual, flaccid morons that the Wizarding world has probably ever seen. I’m tired of fighting an uphill battle that I’ll never win. I told them it was either Wilson or me. They were worried about the political backlash, which is the DUMBEST reason to do or NOT do anything. So I quit.” Blaise finished his rant somewhat breathlessly.

Hermione stood and walked around her desk. She took Blaise’s hands. “I think you are so brave. Thank you for standing up for my friend.”

He smiled down at her. “Can I come over after work? There’s something I want to show you.”

She nodded. “I’d love that.”

He pecked her quickly on the lips. “I have to get out of here.”

Blaise left, leaving Hermione feeling anxious. She spent the rest of the work day distracted, playing Blaise’s words on a loop in her mind. Was the Ministry really so ineffectual? Would it really be impossible to make real change? She thought over all of the dreams and hopes she’d had when she first joined the ministry. She pictured the causes she’d wanted to take up, the lives she’d wanted to change, and realized that she had made no head way in any of the areas she had initially planned to. It was disheartening. She was still thinking about it all when she walked into her flat.

She was shocked to find Blaise already there. He had dinner waiting on the kitchen table, and naturally, the room was lit only by candles.

Blaise stood from the sofa. “George let me in.” He explained.

Hermione gladly embraced him. “Why are you so wonderful?”

Blaise grinned. “I’m about to become even more wonderful.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

He stepped back, his strong hands on her shoulders. “I was going to wait until the end of dinner but, I’m too excited.” He paused, excitement pouring from him. “Come away with me. I’ve always wanted to travel the world and I want you to come with me. There’s no better time than now! We can travel the muggle way! We’ll go by yacht. We can see the world. You can quit your job. The ministry is useless anyways. I’ll pay for everything while we’re gone. I’ll even pay for your flat so it’ll still be here when we get back. One year, you and me.”

Hermione’s head was spinning. How could she turn this down? He was offering her the world and for a moment, she let herself dream.

Blaise wrapped her in his arms, eagerly. “What do you say?”

She placed her hands gently on his chest, and looked into his face, heart in her eyes. “I… I can’t.”


End file.
